Looking
by leaysaye
Summary: Rick and Lori have split up and Rick has moved out. He goes out to drown his sorrows and meets an interesting stranger. Rick/Daryl, slash. AU - no zombies
1. Chapter 1

Rick slammed the phone down, cursing. What was wrong with this woman? They had agreed, or so he had thought, that they would keep this civil, for the boy's sake. Why did she have to pull this shit now? He couldn't bear the thought of not seeing Carl. He'd have to speak to his lawyer in the morning, find out what he could do to make her see sense.

He looked around the bare room, at the boxes stacked against the wall. Staying in would make for a bloody depressing evening. He felt tired from moving all his possessions to the new apartment today, but he knew if he didn't get away from the place now his bad mood would only turn to depression.

Making up his mind Rick grabbed his jacket that was lying on one of the boxes and headed out the door. He didn't have to be at work tomorrow, and he damn well could do as he pleased, now.

In the car he contemplated where to go. He didn't much fancy any of his usual haunts. There was a danger of running into acquaintances at all of them, and talk about Lori and sympathetic glances were the last thing he wanted. There was that cute sergeant, Sally, from Atlanta who had flirted with him when they had worked on a joint case up that way a few months ago. She had given him her phone number, which Rick, despite still trying to save his marriage, had saved in his phone.

With that thought Rick turned left at the next junction and headed towards the highway.

On the drive he had decided to get a drink before calling Sally. He felt nervous about approaching another woman. He and Lori had been married for 11 years, and he wasn't the kind of guy to let his eyes wander. But Lori had decided they were no longer compatible, so there really was no reason to feel guilty. Still, Rick would need to gather a bit of courage first.

He parked his car a few blocks away from a bar he had been to a few times with Shane and which they both quite liked. If he decided to stay in Atlanta for the night this was not a bad place to leave the car. He could always take a taxi to Sally, if that plan worked out.

Rick entered the bar and looked for a free table. As it was a Friday night the place was packed. He briefly considered going somewhere else, but he reckoned it would be like this most places tonight.

He made his way over to the bar and sat on one of the high stools. It took the bar tender several minutes to get round to him, and when he did Rick ordered a beer.

He sat for a few minutes, taking occasional swigs from his bottle and not thinking about much. There was a mirror behind the bar and Rick's gaze alighted on a couple not far behind him. The woman, who had dark hair and looked a bit like Lori, was whispering something to her companion, and they both laughed.

Rick averted his gaze. He remembered him and Lori being like this, not very long ago. Where had it all gone wrong, Rick wondered not for the first time. He took a swig of beer and sighed.

"That's an awfully big sigh," someone said to Rick's left. He looked around. A man was leaning casually against the bar a few feet away. He had reddish-blond hair and was scrutinizing Rick with slanted eyes.

"Never seen you here before," the man continued. "New to the city?"

Rick shook his head. "I'm not from around here. Just came for a quiet drink." He wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to this stranger so he kept his voice non-committal, just shy of standoffish. The other man didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care. He looked across the crowded room.

"Not exactly the perfect spot for quiet," he observed. Rick smiled, almost against his will. "No," he agreed.

The stranger pushed himself away from the bar and took a couple of steps towards Rick. He stretched out a hand.

"Name's Daryl."

Rick looked at the man more closely now. He was wearing quite an expensive looking black shirt and jeans. He had just the hint of a beard, and close to Rick could see that his eyes were of quite a remarkable blue. There was something about his casual demeanor that made him stand out.

Suddenly aware that he was staring Rick dropped his gaze and instead shook the proffered hand. "Rick," he mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

There was a slight, knowing smile on Daryl's face when he looked up, but he didn't look unfriendly. He motioned to the bar stool next to Rick. "May I?"

Unable to think of a good reason to refuse Rick nodded. He was in no particular rush, and at least talking to this stranger would take his mind off Lori.

Daryl settled on the stool with fluid grace, and Rick was fleetingly reminded of a cat.

Daryl motioned to the bartender, then looked at Rick questioningly. Rick shook his head.

"C'mon," Daryl said. "Let me at least buy you a drink, now that I've disturbed your evening."

Rick relented. "All right." He lifted his empty bottle. "Another one."

Daryl ordered two beers and then swiveled around to Rick.

"So, what brings you to Atlanta, Rick?"

Rick hesitated. He wasn't usually the type to share private things with strangers. He thought for a moment about how to answer the question, if at all.

"I just had to get away for a bit. Lots to think about."

There was something about this man that almost made him want to share more. For the moment, though, he held back.

Daryl looked at him as if assessing Rick. People normally didn't look at Rick this intently. Mostly, they knew he was a cop, even when he was out of uniform, and that tended to make people nervous, even those who had nothing to hide. This man didn't know him, of course, but Rick had a feeling that Daryl would still look at him this way even if he knew what Rick was.

Rick noticed again how unusual the other man's eyes were. The light in the bar gave them a particular shine that made them look translucent. Rick mentally shook himself. What was the matter with him? He didn't usually notice these things, not even in women. This man, though...

Daryl broke Rick's train of thought. "Girl trouble, eh?" His voice was deep and evidenced years of cigarettes. He lowered it now, and leaned closer. "Sucks, man." Daryl looked at his hands, then at the mirror behind the bar, taking a swig from his bottle.

Rick was surprised to hear his own voice. "It does, yeah."

Daryl looked at him again. "Sorry to hear. Listen," he added. "'s clear you don't want to talk about it. So let's change the subject."

He angled his body towards Rick, as if giving him his full attention. Rick had to admit it was nice to hear sympathetic words for a change. Most of their friends had sided with Lori.

"What do you do for a living, Rick?"

For a moment Rick considered to lie. People often clamped up when he told them what he did. He had to admit to himself that he didn't want this conversation to end just yet. He wasn't exactly sure why but he decided to stick with the truth.

"I'm a sheriff's deputy in King County."

Daryl actually whistled. "Impressive. But I can see it. You've got law enforcement written all over you." Rick knew immediately he wasn't being serious, and the smile and wink Daryl gave him next gave him a peculiarly pleasant feeling.

"What about you?" Rick returned the question. Daryl also seemed to hesitate and Rick, who had some experience at reading people, wondered how truthful the other man would be.

After a moment Daryl answered, but without looking at Rick. "I work mostly for myself."

Rick knew there was more to it but he didn't think he had any business challenging the statement. Everyone had secrets, and this stranger had only just offered the same courtesy to Rick. So instead he just asked, "And does it pay the rent?"

Daryl shrugged. "I live with my brother. It's his house."

Now Rick felt the need to put the other man at ease. "What do you do when you're not working, then?" To this Daryl grinned. "We hunt, Merle and I." And when Rick looked puzzled Daryl clarified. "My brother. Although," and now he looked annoyed, "Merle got himself into some trouble with your lot. So for now he's got no permit, an' we're coolin' our heels."

Rick was surprised to hear the slight change in Daryl's voice. Together with the hunting reference it gave him an inkling that, despite Daryl's groomed exterior and poise he must come from a pretty rural, possibly poor, background. A redneck.

"We're actually not far from you," Daryl said now. He mentioned a town Rick knew well, which was just outside his department's district. They continued their conversation for a while, and Daryl regaled Rick with funny anecdotes, many involving his brother. Some of them the cop in Rick objected to, but Merle's misdemeanors as Daryl told them were minor enough. And anyway, he was outside Rick's jurisdiction, and for just one evening he decided to let that man be somebody else's problem.

One story involved Daryl as a young boy getting lost in the woods for nine days and mistakenly using poison oak for toilet paper. That story made Rick laugh, but it also made him thoughtful. He looked at Daryl again and wondered what kind of childhood someone would have to have to go missing for nine days without anyone noticing.

In turn, Rick told Daryl about Carl, without going into detail about his split with Lori. Daryl listened carefully, and Rick thought that he looked a little wistful.

"He sounds like a great kid."

Rick nodded. "He is."

Daryl looked him directly in the eyes again. "And you sound like an awesome dad."

Rick didn't say anything to that. He would have liked to believe what Daryl was saying, but he'd heard so many accusations about his selfishness from Lori recently he couldn't quite manage it. Instead he waved at the bartender.

"Would you like anything else?" he asked Daryl. "I think I'll need something a bit stronger now."

Daryl indicated his empty bottle. "I'll stick with beer."

Rick ordered him another beer, and a Scotch for himself. He knew he wouldn't be going home by car that night, and he hadn't made any arrangements to meet up with Sally yet, but for the moment he didn't want to think about any of that. It was pleasant to drink and talk with this man, and just for once he felt like doing what he wanted to do, not what everybody else expected of him.

They drank in silence for a while. Daryl seemed to be as disinclined to break it as was Rick, though he seemed to be getting a little fidgety as the minutes passed. Rick was curious to know what was on the other man's mind, but just as the ability to read people was a skill he had learned on the job he had training in being patient.

Finally Daryl spoke up. "Listen, Rick. There's no easy way to ask you this…" He took a deep breath. "When I approached you tonight I was taking a chance. Normally by now I would have already left you alone. A man with a wife, a son…" He hesitated again. "But I like talking to you. And that's also why I am now spelling it out, because you obviously have no clue…"

"That you were coming on to me, you mean?"

Daryl looked dumbstruck for a second, but recovered. Rick grinned. "Just because I am a married police officer doesn't mean no man has ever hit on me. Or," he added and now let his gaze drift down Daryl's body, lingering on his crotch just long enough for the other man to get his drift. "That I have never accepted an invitation."

A grin was slowly spreading over Daryl's face. He leaned in to Rick all the way now, resting his weight against Rick's shoulder. Rick could smell his aftershave, mingled with cigarette smoke, and he let himself enjoy the sensation of closeness.

Daryl almost whispered, keeping his head low. "Where shall we go? No way we're driving anywhere tonight."

Rick was surprised how far his brain had already planned the next step. "I know just the place."


	2. Chapter 2

Rick called a cab on his cell, and when they stepped outside to wait for it Daryl pulled him into the shadows next to the building. Rick noticed how well they were matched for height. He didn't wait for Daryl to make the next move, he figured he owed the man something for messing with his head earlier.

Pulling Daryl closer by the front of his shirt Rick leaned in for a long kiss. The other man responded eagerly and while there was still some hesitation Rick felt better than he had in weeks. He sneaked one hand into Daryl's jacket, and even through the shirt he could feel the tautness of his muscles. Rick could tell he was getting hard.

He hadn't been with a man since before he and Lori got together. He'd never considered the flings with college buddies and casual acquaintances serious, but he had enjoyed the sex. Lori had not always been very interested in sex, especially after they'd had Carl. Rick sometimes felt tempted to find his thrills elsewhere, but he'd been true to his wedding vows and hadn't broken them with anyone.

Daryl responded hungrily to Rick's touch now. He pressed close, pushing Rick against the wall. A second later Rick could feel their groins touching and felt the other man's erection through the fabric. He groaned with longing. Daryl pulled away from the kiss and looked at Rick. His naturally slanted eyes had narrowed further, but Rick could see his own longing reflected there.

Then Daryl brought his face close to Rick. "I want you to fuck me until I scream," he whispered. Rick might have given him what he wanted right there in the shadows between the buildings, but at that moment the taxi arrived.

In the taxi Daryl sat very close to Rick. After Rick had given the driver the address they didn't speak, but Daryl's hand sneakily crept onto Rick's crotch. Rick considered moving away from the touch, uncomfortably aware how this would look to anyone who recognized him. But it was just them in the taxi, and he was sure the driver neither knew him nor cared what he did. Besides, the sensation of the other man's hand on his erection felt more than nice.

The drive was short. Rick had picked a nondescript motel along one of the lesser highways leading into Atlanta. It was inexpensive and anonymous, but reasonably comfortable. Rick had stayed there once when in Atlanta during a court trial. And it had one other big advantage.

Rick paid the driver and when they got out of the car he said to Daryl, "You stay out here. I'll go and ask for one of the rooms over there." He motioned towards a small cluster of detached courtyard rooms.

Daryl gave him a strange look, and Rick thought he knew what the man was thinking. He didn't say anything else, just walked over to the manager's office.

He felt slightly guilty. He had chosen this place because he knew they'd be able to get a room without anyone realizing they were together. Rick didn't feel like taking the risk of being remembered. He had enough problems as it was.

The desk clerk hardly looked up as he took Rick's credit card and booked the transaction. He handed over the key and pointed out the unit where the room was located. There were no other people present in the office and Rick was again grateful for the obscurity of a big city.

When he came outside again Daryl was waiting in the shadow of the courtyard unit. He looked a little forlorn and Rick felt another surge of guilt. He briefly considered explaining himself but decided not to. Instead he stepped up very close to the other man and placed one finger under his chin, tilting Daryl's face up. Then he kissed him, first gently, then with increasing passion. Here in the deserted car park, hidden in the gloom of the building Rick reckoned they were pretty safe from being observed.

Daryl responded to the kiss hesitantly at first, and Rick thought he might pull away, maybe even leave. But as the moment stretched on he became more invested and pressed against Rick.

Rick placed his hand around the back of Daryl's neck, and the other man half moaned, half sighed against Rick's lips at the touch. Rick remembered how he would sometimes hold Lori like this, but pushed the thought away with determination.

After another minute or so Rick broke away. "Let's get inside," he murmured. He glanced at the doors of the ground floor rooms and spotted the number that corresponded to the key he was holding.

He took Daryl's hand and pulled him towards the door. Rick felt a strong urgency now to get into the room and get Daryl out of his clothes. His erection had abated during the transaction with the clerk but had swelled again while kissing Daryl, and it was straining almost painfully against its confines now.

Rick fumbled with the key in the lock one-handed because he didn't want to let go of Daryl. That earned him a chuckle from the other man. Rick looked around.

"What?" In response Daryl leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Get that door open. I'm about to burst, I want you so much."

Rick complied, letting go briefly of Daryl and the door swung open. He half turned again, but didn't get the chance to say or do anything else because Daryl crowded in on him, pushing Rick through the door while simultaneously managing to stay pressed against him. Once inside the room Daryl swung the door shut without looking.

With the door closed it was almost pitch black inside, but for the moment neither of them cared. They continued to kiss, hands starting to grope for purchase on fabric. Rick managed to unbutton the other man's pants first, and for good measure placed his hand on Daryl's bulge. He was rewarded with a groan and a more frantic pair of hands on his own pants.

Rick started unbuttoning his own shirt, along with Daryl's. He slid his hands into the other man's shirt and was about to slide them up his back, when Daryl suddenly froze and pulled away.

"No," he panted, and brought Rick's hands back to the front. Rick couldn't see Daryl's face in the darkness, but he could feel the man's heartbeat under his fingers. It had just picked up, and Rick didn't think that had only to do with what they were doing to each other. He made a mental note to accept that particular quirk for now, but stowed it away for analysis later.

Daryl had finally managed to undo Rick's belt and fly. Rick realized they had reached a point at which the darkness was becoming an issue. For one thing, he couldn't see the bed, and he had the strong urge to get Daryl onto it as soon as possible. He pulled Daryl with him as he stepped back and felt on the wall by the door until he had found the light switch. He flicked the ceiling lights on.

For a moment they were both squinting, but then Rick's attention was entirely consumed with the sight before him. Daryl stood only two feet or so away, hair disheveled, shirt open and untucked. Rick's eyes wandered down the broad chest, the taut stomach and onto the main prize. Daryl's pants were undone and had started to slide down, and there was now only the fabric of his boxers between Rick's gaze and what looked like a sizeable erection.

Rick looked up and grinned at Daryl, whose eyes seemed to have taken a similar route down his body. He didn't hesitate any longer. He pushed Daryl backwards by the shoulders until his calves hit the bed. Daryl let Rick take the lead and looked at him now for instructions.

"Get onto the bed."

Daryl complied. He slowly scooted up the mattress until he was lying prone on his back. Rick just looked at him for a moment. With his shirt open and his pants undone Daryl looked both vulnerable and incredibly hot. Rick climbed onto the bed after him and straddled him, pinning his hands over his head with one of his own. The other one was busy exploring Daryl's chest. Rick then leaned in and started sucking on Daryl's neck, using his teeth and tongue as he moved down his chest. By the time Rick got to his navel Daryl was whimpering.

"Fuck me, man." Daryl's voice was hoarse with desire. Rick was ready.

He moved down the bed again, taking Daryl's pants and boxers with him. Now Daryl was wearing only his open shirt, which Rick did not challenge. He climbed to his feet at the bottom of the bed and quickly stripped off all his own clothes. Daryl motioned to the pile of fabric on the floor.

"Back pocket. Condoms and slick."

Rick found the items in Daryl's jeans pocket. He was now fully hard and as he climbed back onto the bed he could tell that Daryl was looking at his erection from under his half-closed lids. Rick was pleased to see a smile on the other man's face.

He quickly put on the condom, then tilted Daryl's legs at an angle. He ripped open the single pack of slick and coated three fingers of his right hand. When he reached down and placed the first finger against Daryl's opening the other man shuddered. He shifted on the bed to allow Rick better access and Rick did not lose any time. He slid one finger slowly into Daryl, marveling at the warm tightness.

Rick had never realized it until then how much he had missed being with another man. Sex with Lori had been pleasurable for the most part, but she was soft and pliable, and Rick would have liked some tightness and edge now and then.

He didn't plan to be rough to Daryl; for this first encounter he was happy to take it slow and gentle. He was briefly amazed at himself for even thinking about this as a first, as if it was a given that there would be other times.

Daryl had accommodated Rick's finger quickly, so Rick added a second one now, moving further in. Daryl moaned again. He was breathing heavily now, and Rick could feel his own pulse quicken.

"Rick, 'm not gonna last. Need to feel you in me, now."

Daryl's voice was pleading, and Rick felt turned on even more. His cock twitched, and he withdrew his fingers. Daryl made a small noise of despair, but Rick only coated himself in slick and then positioned himself between Daryl's legs. He placed a hand on each side of Daryl on the mattress and brought his body forward until he hovered over Daryl.

He was careful to have a perfect view of the other man's face. He wanted to see his expression when he entered him. When he placed his erection against Daryl's entrance there was another sharp intake of breath. Daryl's hand came up and tangled in Rick's hair. He shifted again, to offer the best possible access for Rick, and Rick hesitated no longer.

Rick pushed into Daryl slowly, keeping his eyes locked with the other man. Daryl's gaze flickered as Rick moved himself into position slowly, and he bit his lower lip, moaning involuntarily. Rick pressed on, feeling the tightness and warmth enclose his cock.

Daryl's hand in his hair tightened, and Rick stopped. The other man opened his eyes which had fallen almost closed.

"Don't stop." The words were barely a whisper.

"Am I hurting you?"

Daryl shook his head. "No. Just keep goin'."

So Rick did. He slid in all the way as Daryl writhed under him a little, shifting to accommodate. Rick started moving back and forth when he realized the effect this was having on Daryl. He tried to find the angle that would ensure best access to the other man's prostate, and he didn't have to try very long. Seeing the arousal on Daryl's face almost pushed Rick over the edge.

"God, Rick. I'm not going to…" The rest was lost in a groan. Rick shifted his weight on one hand and took Daryl's cock into the other. He only got to give him a few strokes when Daryl's back arched and he cried out. Rick could feel Daryl tighten on him, and next moment he could feel the warm cum all over his hand.

Rick only lasted a moment longer. He gave himself over to the ecstasy that enveloped him. He had to let go of Daryl to steady himself with both hands again and not slump over. He savored his own orgasm until the last spasms of pleasure subsided.

He still didn't want to collapse on top of Daryl, so when Rick slid out he propped himself up on one side next to the other man. Rick realized wryly that this was automatic behavior for him because Lori had hated being smothered under him after he came. Rick had a feeling that Daryl actually wouldn't have minded, but this vantage point was nice, too.

Daryl's eyes were still closed. His cheeks were flushed and he looked utterly relaxed. This way he also looked very young, and Rick's eyes fell on the shirt the other man was still wearing. He wondered what all of this was about.

Finally Daryl stirred. He looked over to Rick and the smile that spread over the other man's face warmed Rick's heart. It had been a long time since anyone had looked this happy to be with him.

They had cleaned up and then had actually snuggled up in bed. Rick wasn't sure how this had happened, but it felt the most natural thing to do. Daryl had slipped outside in just his shirt and boxer shorts to smoke a quick cigarette, and when he came back he simply climbed into bed where Rick had propped himself up against the headboard, the television turned to the news channel. Daryl ended up with Rick's arm around him and his head on Rick's chest, and Rick had no idea who had initiated this.

They watched the news in silence for a little while, seemingly content to savor what had just occurred. Daryl was the one who finally broke the silence.

"Can I ask you something? It's not for me, but you're a cop, so…"

Rick turned the TV to silent. "Go ahead."

"I have this friend, Carol. Her husband is a… he's buddies with Merle. And he's not very, uh, nice to her. The husband, I mean." Daryl glanced up at Rick. "D'you think, if I told your lot, the local cops, I mean, they'd go and help?"

Rick looked down at Daryl. "Is the husband violent, does he hit her?"

Daryl looked away and nodded. "And their little girl."

Rick sighed. "It's not so easy as that. Best thing would be if she called the police herself, next time the husband acts up again. If a third party calls there needs to be quite a bit of evidence for the police to take action. Has this been going on long?"

"I think so." Daryl sounded distressed. "I've told her she needs to get away, but she won't listen. I hate not being able to help!"

"I'm sorry about your friend." Rick said, and tightened his arm around Daryl. He wasn't exactly surprised that the man was kind and felt upset about his friend's situation, but he wondered at the layers of what seemed to be a complex personality. Impulsively Rick pressed a kiss on the top of the tousled blond head. As he looked across to the bedside table his glance fell onto the clock sitting there. It was nearly three in the morning.

"We really need to get some sleep. I've got a lot to do tomorrow."

They slept late the next morning. Rick didn't particularly mind, but he was aware that his new place was still a right mess and if he wanted to get anything done before his next shift that evening he had to get back.

He was also starting to feel uneasy. He didn't exactly regret what he'd allowed himself to get into, but the longer he thought about the potential consequences the more uneasy he got. Rick was putting on his shoes when Daryl came out of the bathroom, clad in a towel and shrugging back into his shirt.

Something had been bugging Rick, and in his growing discomfort he decided he could at least sort this out. He straightened up.

"Daryl, what is it you do for a living, exactly?" Rick's intuition had been telling him that it couldn't be entirely legal, or Daryl wouldn't have been so circumspect the night before. Rick's suspicions were strengthened when Daryl looked at him with something like panic now.

"Tol' you, I work fer myself." His redneck lilt was more pronounced than ever.

"Yes, but what do you do?" Rick persisted.

Daryl looked away, and then at the floor. "I sell myself for sex."

Rick was sure he couldn't have heard this right. He had expected more half-truths, or lies, and certainly not this. There was a burning feeling to his stomach, and if he was honest with himself it wasn't just the cop in him that felt shocked.

Daryl seemed to read some of what was going through Rick's mind. "This here," He said quickly and gestured at the room, at Rick, "wasn't for business. I'm not expecting you to…"

Rick got up from the bed. "Well, I certainly hope not, because I would have to arrest you otherwise."

When he saw the stricken look on Daryl's face he felt the now familiar warmth for the man return, and was almost sorry he had brought this up. Daryl had answered honestly, which, Rick reminded himself, was not a small token of trust, considering Rick's job.

"Look, I am surprised, is all. Don't tell me any more, or I will not be able to overlook this."

Daryl looked slightly less anxious, but his eyes still darted around nervously. "I meant to tell you, man," he said quietly. "Never seemed the right moment. Didn't want ya to ditch me." He sounded genuinely distressed now.

Rick sighed. "Look, it's no big deal." He indicated Daryl's partial state of dress. "Let's get out of here, ok? I really gotta get back."

He called a taxi on his cell while Daryl put the rest of his clothes back on. They didn't speak much on the journey back to Atlanta, and there was no hint of the intimacy of the previous night. They parted company in front of the bar they had met at.

Only when he got into his car did Rick realize that they had not exchanged phone numbers.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick thought about the encounter on Friday night a lot during the next week. He felt increasingly uneasy about the whole thing, and was almost glad that they had parted without making any plans to hook up again.

King County was a conservative community and, despite this being the year 2010, Rick was sure that if it became known that the first thing he had done when served with his divorce papers was run to another man people would not be very accepting. As a sheriff's deputy he had a reputation to protect, and it mattered what people thought of him, or he wouldn't be able to do his job. Never mind what a custody judge would have to say on the matter.

And yet… Rick couldn't deny that he had more than enjoyed the night with Daryl, had felt drawn to him beyond the physical attraction, which was strong. There was something about the mix of suaveness, redneck wildness and vulnerability that made the image of the other man float back to the forefront of Rick's mind more often than he would have liked.

The week had started with other frustrations as well. Rick's lawyer was still brooding over the issue of Lori's intransigence and Rick hadn't seen his son in almost two weeks. He missed the boy, and seethed at the thought of the woman's stubbornness. Work was keeping him busy with an array of tedious small issues he didn't particularly enjoy, and by the Thursday he was ready for the full weekend off that was just around the corner.

Just after lunch, which had consisted of a sandwich eaten at his desk while slogging through some paperwork Rick's phone rang. He picked it up.

"Someone called Daryl for ya," came the rough voice of their desk clerk, Ernie. "Asked for you by name."

Rick's heartrate climbed immediately. How did Daryl get his last name? But then he realized he was being paranoid. He remembered that he had told the man where he worked, early on in the bar, and with the internet at his disposal it would be a 30-second job to find a mention of his full name. There was only one Rick on the force in King County.

He tried not to give away anything in his voice. "Right, Ern, thanks. Put him through."

Rick heard a click as the clerk put the phone down. "Officer Grimes speaking." Rick hoped Daryl would pick up on the formal tone and keep his end of the conversation in respectable limits.

"Hey Rick," he heard the other man say, and Rick's heart skipped a beat. It was unexpectedly pleasant to hear the dark timbre again. "Sorry to call you at work, but I couldn't think of another way to get in touch."

"That's ok." Rick hoped his voice sounded neutral to his colleagues, but not unfriendly to Daryl. "How can I help?"

There was a slight hesitation on the other end, and Rick thought he'd landed on the side of non-committal a little too firmly.

"I was wondering if we could get together again?" There was some hesitation in Daryl's voice, and Rick had to suppress a smile when he realized there was eagerness, too.

"What did you have in mind?" Rick lowered his voice just enough, he hoped, not to be obvious to anyone overhearing him.

"I have tickets to this show on Saturday night," Daryl continued. "It's a gallery opening in Atlanta. A friend of mine is exhibiting. I know," and now he sounded a mite anxious. "Sounds like an odd choice, but I thought it'd be a good place to hang out. And it's Atlanta…"

Rick agreed, it was an odd choice, but he had to admit that he didn't mind what they did, as long as he could see Daryl. He suddently realized that despite all the implications a continuation of this entailed he couldn't stand the idea of never seeing the other man again.

"Sure, sounds good," was all he said, though. "Why don't you give me your number? I'll be in touch."

Daryl seemed to accept the odd way Rick was responding for the workplace front it was and recited his cell number. Rick wrote it down on a piece of scrap paper but was sure he'd already committed it to memory. That was just the way his mind worked, zeroing in on the essential details.

He rang off after that and returned to his paperwork, glancing around surreptitiously. Nobody seemed to have paid him the slightest bit of attention, and he slowly relaxed.

After half an hour, when he was certain that nobody would connect his activities with the phone call any longer, Rick got up from his desk and went to the bathroom. He locked himself into a stall and leaned against the door. He keyed Daryl's number into his phonebook and started typing a message.

 _Sorry bout earlier. Lots of prying ears. Where r we going?_

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

 _'S ok, got that. Downtown Atlanta, sec, gonna send link 2 venue._

The link followed and after it another message.

 _8pm. C u there. Can't wait._

Rick hesitated a moment and then replied.

 _Me neither. Til Sat._

The weekend did not start well for Rick. As the lawyers were still dragging their heels and he hadn't seen Carl in two weeks now, he gave in to his desperation and actually phoned Lori again. He was determined to get her to agree to a meeting, to convince her to let him see Carl before the courts compelled her to.

She was having none of it. The phone rang for what felt like ages before she even picked up, and from the first Rick knew that this call had been a mistake.

"No, Rick, you can't see him now, and if I have anything to do with it, you'll never see him. You weren't there half the time for the last ten years, so I don't understand this interest all of a sudden."

Rick took a deep breath. She was being unfair, and she knew it. Yes, he'd been busy, but half the time was certainly an exaggeration. "You have no right to keep me away from Carl."

Lori laughed. "No right? I have every right, I am his mother. Right now, all you are interested in is getting your revenge on me, and you want to use our son against me!"

Rick was puzzled by the paranoia. Lori hadn't been like that ever before, and Rick had an inkling that these accusations didn't stem from her own overwrought thoughts.

"What do you mean, revenge? Are you out of your mind?"

There was another harsh laugh at the other end. "Are you calling me insane now, Rick? Is that your new angle? Oh, Shane was so right about you!"

For a moment Rick thought he hadn't heard right. "What has Shane got to do with this?" He was genuinely confused, but a bitter fear started to coalesce at the pit of his stomach.

There was a silence on the other end, then, "I suppose it doesn't matter now… I am sleeping with Shane, Rick. In fact, I have been for the last two years."

Rick didn't hear anything after that through the rushing in his ears. The hand holding his phone fell limply into his lap, and he started at it, not comprehending what he was seeing. He sat like this for a minute, then his fingers automatically found the off button, and his cell went blank.

He stayed seated on the sofa for over an hour, not moving, hardly aware he was even breathing. His mind was mostly blank, the only thought repeating itself over and over being, _Why didn't I see this?_

Rick eventually forced himself to get up. He went about his chores in a daze. He made himself lunch absent-mindedly and didn't even remember eating it afterwards. In the late afternoon, when the truth had sunk in somewhat and the shock had been replaced with anger for both Lori and Shane he remembered his plans for the evening.

Rick seriously considered sending Daryl an apologetic message, but in the end he decided to go as planned. He sure as hell needed distraction, otherwise he'd just work himself into a rage.

He spotted Daryl before the other man saw him. He was outside the venue, one of these trendy galleries that had sprung up all over the city in recent years. As Rick strolled up to the entrance he saw that Daryl was busy with his phone. Rick slowed his step, to prolong the opportunity of just watching Daryl without the man being any the wiser.

Daryl was wearing a light blue shirt under a leather jacket, and he looked relaxed and suave, like he had when he had first approached Rick. As if feeling the gaze on himself Daryl finally looked up. The smile that spread over his face when he saw Rick told him that he had done the right thing in coming.

Daryl waited for Rick to draw level. "I wasn't sure you'd come, you know," he said in a low voice.

Rick considered for a moment how much to tell the other man. He decided to stick with an approximation of the truth, for now. "I almost didn't. Long story," he added when Daryl looked quizzical. "I am here now."

Rick tried to smile but wasn't too sure his attempt was convincing. Daryl looked wary, almost hurt. Before he could ask any questions Rick spoke again. "So, tell me what it is we're seeing tonight."

Daryl motioned him to the entrance and as they stepped into the cavernous space he started to explain the art installations on display. The room was not yet very busy, and after handing over two tickets to a smiling girl in a smart suit Daryl led Rick to a corner of the room.

"These are all Glenn's," he said. Rick must have looked his confusion, and Daryl elaborated. "My friend, the one who got me the tickets. He's really good." Daryl pointed out a particular picture. "I wish I could paint like that."

Rick looked at him. "You paint?" Daryl looked a little uncomfortable, as though he didn't normally discuss this interest of his. "A little. Nothing like this, though." And he indicated to Rick to follow him, as he commented on the pictures.

Rick was only half listening to the explanations. He caught himself staring at Daryl several times, mesmerized by the grace with which he moved as well as his evident knowledge about the art they were viewing. He didn't overanalyze or elaborate too much on the paintings, but would stand in front of each for a long while, looking, and pointing out one or another particular feature to Rick.

All the while, even with the distraction provided by Daryl, Rick's mind was still half numb. He just couldn't believe what Lori, and Shane for that matter, had done right under his nose. He kept thinking back to all the times he'd slept with Lori in the last two years and felt an increasing rage at the thought that Shane had been with her in the same way (and who knew what else) as he. He had not the smallest inkling what he would do when confronted with his alleged best friend come Monday.

Daryl was looking at him again with a worried expression. "Am I boring you?" he asked, and Rick shook his head. "No, Daryl, you aren't." He sighed. "I am not really in the best frame of mind for this sort of thing tonight, I'm afraid. Maybe I should just go…" Daryl looked stricken, but quickly controlled his face.

"Well, if you're not in the mood for this, we can do something else? I can always come back some other time and look at the rest."

Rick was about to protest, but then thought better of it. If he was being honest with himself he would like nothing better now than take that man home and get a repeat of the last Friday night. Anything to seriously take his mind off Lori and Shane.


	4. Chapter 4

They agreed to go back to Rick's place. Daryl told Rick that he'd caught a ride with Glenn on the way to Atlanta, and Rick briefly wondered whether Daryl had planned this… _God, dammit, this paranoia!_

Daryl had added, "My truck's busted, no time to have it fixed," and the way he wasn't looking Rick in the eye Rick knew that wasn't the truth. He was sure now that Daryl hadn't planned this, but he knew something was going on. He didn't pry. Not his business, and he had too many problems as it was.

Once in the car Daryl was quiet. He looked out of the window and seemed almost as preoccupied now as Rick felt. More to keep his mind occupied than because he wanted to hear it Rick finally asked, "Something the matter?"

He wasn't too sure that he didn't sound impatient, but just couldn't bring himself to care. So far, the plan to distract himself from his problems was not working, and he half regretted bringing the other man along.

Daryl looked at him a little hurt, but answered after a moment, "The friend I told you about? With the douchebag husband? I saw her last night, and she's got another black eye."

Rick did feel sorry for Daryl, and the unknown woman, but right this moment all he could think of was how depressed he felt and that this wasn't helping. "Sorry to hear," was all he managed.

He could tell Daryl was still looking at him, but when Rick didn't look back or say anything else he gave a small sigh and looked out the window again. Rick normally didn't take his temper out on others, but this time he was unable to stop himself.

They arrived back at Rick's a little after 10pm. Before getting out of the car Rick leaned over and placed a hand on Daryl's arm. The other man looked at him and Rick leaned in for a kiss, almost an apology. Daryl didn't respond at once but eventually he relented and returned the kiss.

Both got out of the car, and Rick couldn't help surreptitiously checking their surroundings for anyone who might have seen them kissing, but the street was dark and deserted. He led the way into the condo and up the stairs to his apartment. They were inside quickly and Rick shut the door behind them with relief.

He didn't feel like talking, and while he knew it would have been better to offer Daryl a drink first and talk to him for a bit before making his move the rage he felt made all rational thought irrelevant. He closed in on the other man and pushed him against the wall, already busying his hands on Daryl's pants. Daryl let out a gasp in surprise and was again hesitant to respond to the kiss Rick initiated.

Daryl finally gave in and placed his hands on either side of Rick's face, almost as if to try and calm him. Rick pulled back. He wasn't interested in gentleness just now, the rage in his chest was roaring away all other emotions. He pressed himself hard against Daryl, and watched the other man's face closely. When he saw the other's expression change from surprise to resignation he pulled him away from the wall and stripped off Daryl's jacket, tossing it onto the sofa.

Then he maneuvered Daryl towards the door at the other end of the living room. Daryl came without protest now, and they were soon through into Rick's bedroom. Rick toed off his shoes at the same time as unbuttoning Daryl's shirt. He was determined to get him out of that this time.

Rick pushed Daryl harder than he really meant to onto the bed, and Daryl landed with a thump. He looked at Rick with something like alarm, but complied when Rick motioned him to move onto the mattress. Rick followed and pushed Daryl into a lying position.

"Take your shirt off," he growled. Daryl looked terrified. "Rick, what…"

"Take it off, now!"

And Rick was on top of him, pulling at the fabric and pinning Daryl down at the same time, making the whole situation impossible. He held on to Daryl's upper arms with a grip like steel, panting hard and staring down at Daryl without really seeing him.

"I said, take off your shirt." Daryl now fought back properly, trying to wriggle away from Rick.

"No, Rick. Lemme go, it hurts!"

Daryl pushed against Rick, hard, and Rick suddenly snapped back into his head. He saw the terror on the other's face and, horrified, he let go of Daryl. He shrank back off the bed and straightened up. Daryl was also on his feet, hastily buttoning his shirt.

"I better go," he mumbled, and when Rick took a step towards him he flinched badly.

Rick couldn't think what to say. "I'm sorry, man," came out without thought, sounding hollow. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a crumpled twenty and held it out to Daryl.

"Take a cab."

Daryl looked for a moment as if he'd refuse but then took the money. He didn't wait for Rick to do or say anything else but hurried from the room. Rick didn't move, even when he heard the door click shut a minute later.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl was shaking as he walked away from Rick's apartment complex. He could still feel the other's hands on him, rough and insistent. He was sure that he'd find finger shaped bruises on his upper arms when he got home.

The thought that he had little choice now but to go home made Daryl feel despondent. Merle's house had never really been home for him, and it had become less so recently. His brother's vindictiveness had increased in the last six months as he drank more and consumed more and more of the drugs he was selling. He had become increasingly hostile towards Daryl, and let him feel that he was merely tolerated. Daryl knew that Merle was a homophobe, but until recently he'd kept a lid on it around Daryl.

Daryl had barely ever spoken to his brother about his homosexuality, had certainly never mentioned the fact that he had started to offer himself for money. The thought brought a laugh now. Born out of desperation, the "business model" of selling sex wasn't working all that well for Daryl. He'd had some success in the beginning, in the bars in downtown Atlanta and via Craigslist, and he had even enjoyed some of the encounters. But with the economy as it was even this kind of _service_ was affected.

It didn't help that he'd had a couple of bad experiences with punters getting rough that had scared him badly. Especially the last one he'd been with, who had actually pulled a knife on Daryl when he refused to let himself be tied up.

Daryl usually enjoyed it when sex got a bit rough, but he'd decided that it would be too risky to do that sort of thing with men he didn't know at all. He'd only gotten out of that last encounter because he had threatened to call for help, and as they had been in a fairly busy motel the man had let him leave without more than the threat.

That had been two weeks ago, and after meeting Rick the previous Friday Daryl had seriously considered not to go back to it at all. He'd seen Rick's face when he mentioned how he earned his money, and had felt ashamed. Daryl had told the truth, as soon as he and Rick got talking Daryl had decided to try his luck with the man not for money but for pure enjoyment. He liked Rick and wanted him to think well of him.

He rephrased that. He had thought, until this evening, that Rick was a decent man and that they might be onto something more than just an occasional fuck. But then Rick had turned all weird on him, and with his last two encounters fresh in his mind Daryl had gotten scared. Why had Rick been so insistent that Daryl take his shirt off? It was such a trivial thing to get worked up about, but Daryl had a feeling that something else had been on Rick's mind and he himself had only become an accidental target.

Daryl never showed anyone his back. It was a mess of scars, from where his dad had taken his belt, and sometimes a stick, to him over most of his childhood and adolescence. Merle didn't know about it, and nobody else did either. And that's how it was going to stay, as far as Daryl was concerned.

By now he had walked about two blocks from Rick's place, in the direction they'd come from earlier. Daryl didn't know King County very well, but he knew that there was no way he'd be able to walk the twenty miles to Merle's. He had no choice but to call a taxi and pay with the money Rick had given him. Daryl felt sick at the memory of accepting the twenty dollars. He knew it had been either that or phoning Merle to get him to pick him up, which, as things stood, was worse than feeling humiliated by Rick on top of scared.

At the next crossing he pulled out his cell and called a taxi.

When he got to the house he opened the front door hesitantly. The lights were all out, but that didn't have to mean Merle was out, or asleep. One time a few weeks ago, when the drugs had made him particularly paranoid, Merle had been sitting in the dark living room and had almost given Daryl a heart attack when he got in. Daryl peered round the door carefully before entering, but the room was empty.

The house had been handsome once, and Merle had bought it with the money he made off one of his half-legal adventures. Daryl had never asked particulars about Merle's activities, just as Merle had always ignored Daryl's sexuality, at least until recently.

Now, with Merle increasingly off his head with drugs and the money coming more and more intermittently the house was nearing a point of no return into filth. Daryl's room, which he kept locked, was on the first floor, and he headed for it now. He hardly even glanced at the rest of the mess anymore; these last six months he'd spent in his room if he was in the house at all.

He didn't mind the filth as much as some people would, he and Merle had grown up in a house far worse than even this one was becoming now. He minded Merle more, and the relief to find the house deserted was strong.

In his room, Daryl started pacing. He felt wired and wrung out at the same time, and wondered vaguely when things had taken such a turn for the worse. Merle had been getting less predictable for a long time, but as long as he kept his head down Daryl thought he could have managed that. The problem was that money had never been so tight, and he had had to rely on Merle a lot for it lately. With Merle not bringing in near as much as he used to that was always a risk. The last time he'd asked his brother for some gas money he thought Merle was going to hit him. He hadn't asked since.

But now his truck was busted, and Daryl knew that he'd have to do something about that, and soon. It was still parked a mile up the road, where it had stalled when he'd gone to pick Merle up from Ed the night before. Merle never worried about whether Daryl was inconvenienced by having to pick him up, he'd just call and expect Daryl to be there in a flash.

Last night had been like that. The truck had been almost running on fumes, but Merle hadn't even let Daryl finish a sentence, just yelled down the phone to get his queer ass there, and pronto. When Daryl had gotten to the modest bungalow Ed and Carol called home he'd been annoyed to find no Merle waiting for him. He hated having to go into that house these days. Carol was looking more and more harassed every time he saw her, and it broke his heart to see her and Sophia so afraid.

He'd reluctantly gone to ring the doorbell and when Carol had opened he'd had to take a deep breath not to barge in and knock Ed on his ass. Carol's left eye was almost swollen shut, and she had bruises all around her collarbone on that side. Daryl had had hardly time to force a smile before Merle had stomped up and pulled Daryl along, muttering about the waste of space he was and how he'd now be late.

Daryl wished he had the guts to confront Ed, but the truth was, he was scared of him. Daryl knew the man was dangerous in the same way as Merle, only further gone. He had been one of Merle's best customers for years, and Daryl was sure it wasn't just pot he bought from him. Recently Merle had taken to spending more and more time with men like Ed, and Daryl had had more chances to see how badly things were going for Carol.

He was still pacing the small bedroom, biting hard on the nail of his thumb, when his cell buzzed. As if conjured by his thoughts it was Carol.

"Hey Carol, you ok?"

"Yes, yes… Daryl, have you seen Merle? Ed is waiting for him, and he's not showed up." She sounded quite frantic. "Ed's asked me to try his cell, but there's no answer, so I thought I'd check with you…"

"Sorry, Carol, he's not here. Haven't seen him all day, just came back." He hesitated. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes, fine. Listen, if he shows up, can you tell him to call? You know what Ed's like when he's… just ask him to call, ok?"

"Sure thing."

Carol didn't even say goodbye, she just hung up. Daryl resumed his pacing, worrying about Carol. She'd sounded so afraid… It was no good, he'd have to do something. Grabbing his jacket from the bed where he'd flung it only minutes earlier, Daryl hurried out of his room and down the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Daryl collected the spare set of keys for Merle's motorcycle from their hiding place. He had never taken Merle's ride without permission before, and Merle hadn't let him ride it in over a year. But he still knew where the keys were – under a loose floorboard by the sofa – and Daryl knew Merle would never find out he'd taken the bike as long as he put the keys back before morning.

Merle himself hadn't ridden the bike in a long time, either. Being stoned out of your head most of the time makes controlling a motorcycle much more difficult than controlling a car.

The ride to Ed and Carol's was short, just over five miles on the winding country lanes that crisscrossed the landscape like lazy riverbeds. Daryl had borrowed Merle's helmet as well, but hadn't bothered changing into the leather gear. He'd be on the bike for such a short time it hardly seemed worth it, and anyway, he wanted to go quickly while he still had the nerve.

What he would do, what to say to Ed, Daryl wasn't sure. He sat on the bike for at least twenty minutes outside their house, mulling it all over in his head. He decided to be straightforward with Ed, but not provoke him, and simply demand that Carol and Sophia leave with him. What he'd do with them then, how he'd even get them away on the motorcycle he had no idea. Maybe he could convince Carol to get Ed to give her the car. Daryl would threaten Ed with the police if he didn't let his wife and daughter leave.

Daryl was not a violent man. After growing up with his pa regularly beating him until he bled for years, and Merle getting into fights every five minutes ever since Daryl had been old enough to remember he had an almost visceral distaste for violence.

He could fight if he had to; Merle and his friends had made sure of that by frequently backing him in a corner and pushing him around until he lost it and fought them tooth and nail. He'd become quite good at it, actually. His upbringing, such as it was, as Merle's and his pa's punch bag had made him strong, but it had made him even more determined not to become like them.

His mind finally made up, Daryl approached the house. Until now he had forgotten how late it was, but despite the hour there were several lights burning inside. He knocked on the door.

It took several minutes before someone responded. Daryl was dithering on leaving when finally the door cracked open and Carol peered through the gap.

"Carol, hey." She looked more than a little surprised to see him. Daryl wasn't sure, but he thought she had been crying.

She didn't open the door wider. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"Can I come in? I need to talk to Ed."

"Daryl, I don't think that's…"

"Who is it?" came a rough voice from within. "That useless Merle, finally?"

Carol looked at Daryl pleadingly. "Just go, please."

Daryl placed a hand on the door. "I can't. Let me in."

Too used to obeying orders Carol opened the door fully.

Daryl entered the gloomy living room. Ed was sprawled in an armchair, wearing a grubby undershirt and sweatpants. He sneered when he looked up at Daryl.

"Fuck do you want?"

Daryl focused on what he had to say, trying to ignore his heart pounding with dread.

"Ed, I have come to take Carol and Sophia with me..."

Ed was on his feet in a flash. Even through the adrenaline Daryl marveled at the speed with which the paunchy man moved.

"What are you talking about, you faggot. How dare you come into my house and tell me you are taking my wife and daughter away?"

Daryl looked at Carol, trying to put reassurance into his gaze.

"Carol, go get Sophia..."

Daryl never got to finish the sentence. A movement from Ed caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Ed had grabbed a baseball bat from beside his chair and had already covered half of the short distance towards Daryl. Daryl had time to half wonder why there was a baseball bat next to Ed's chair, and to take a step back while starting to lift his left arm, but it wasn't enough.

He didn't exactly see the bat coming at him, but he was aware of a searing pain in his left temple for an instance, before his world went black.

Daryl was only out for a few seconds, but he almost wished it had been longer. He came round, lying on the floor, to more agonizing pain as Ed kept bashing every inch of him he could reach.

Daryl curled into a ball instinctively, bringing his arms up to cover his head. He could feel something warm run down the left side of his face. His new position gave Ed perfect access to his side, and Daryl gave a yell of pain as Ed's bat landed hard on his ribcage. Daryl thought he could feel a rib crack.

He was dimly aware of someone shouting, but couldn't make out any words. He tried to look up from under his arms to locate the source of the noise, which he was sure must be Carol, but his vision was blurred and the room span sickeningly in and out of focus.

The next thing he knew was being roughly yanked to his feet. The movement made him dizzy and his reflexes were too sluggish to defend himself. He was hurtled roughly across the room towards the door.

Daryl knew Ed was shouting at him, but he couldn't make out any words. Someone was still yelling behind them, too.

The door was flung open and Ed pushed him through with enough force for Daryl to stumble and crash to the ground. He stayed down, too dazed to move, and the door behind him banged shut, leaving him in darkness.

He lay on the ground, willing the world to stop spinning and tried to steady his breathing. Each inhalation sent a shooting pain up his left side, but the more he slowed down the breaths the more the sensation subsided. Finally he pushed himself first into a sitting position, then back onto his feet.

His only thought, and even that was not coherent, more an instinctive need to be gone, was flight. Daryl stumbled towards the bike.

His fuzzy brain had latched onto just one thought: Get away. He tried to blink away the double vision and nausea that still came in waves and reached for the helmet he had left with the bike. Even in his muddled state he knew that not wearing it now, even with his head feeling like it was going to split in two, would be madness, and Daryl was briefly thankful that the helmet was one of those with a chin strap. Even so, putting it on gingerly almost floored him again.

With the helmet finally secured he steadied himself on the handles and swung his leg over the seat. A sharp pain from his ribs made him gasp but he didn't afford himself any more time.

As the road beneath him started to fall away and he put more of a distance between him and the nightmarish beating his head began to clear a little. He knew that he had not accomplished anything, had most likely put Carol in more danger.

The only thing he could think of now was to go to the police and press charges against Ed. Everything in Daryl screamed against going to the cops for help, but if that was what it took to get Ed locked up and away from Carol then that's what he had to do. And Rick was a cop and he was decent, or at least he'd started out that way...

Daryl lost his train of thought as a new wave of nausea hit him. His vision went blurry once more and he struggled to keep his body from going slack. He wasn't going too fast but even at this speed it was getting hard to keep control of the bike. He knew he had to stop, but before his sluggish brain could implement the realization everything went black again.

Rick couldn't sleep. He was lying on top of the sheets with the lights off, fully clothed. He realized that the fact that he couldn't sleep might be connected to this last fact, but he saw that as just punishment for what he'd done to Daryl.

It was now after one in the morning, and Rick hadn't moved in an hour. When his cell rang he almost didn't answer, but since it was in his jeans pocket he finally fished it out when it didn't stop. He could just ignore it if it was Lori, and Rick half hoped it might be Daryl, although he knew that was unlikely.

The number didn't mean anything to Rick. He pressed the receiver button.

"Hello?"

"Is that Rick?"

"It is. Who's that?"

"I'm calling from Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta."

Rick's heart skipped several beats. Carl!

"Sir, do you know a man called Daryl Dixon?"

Rick's heart started beating again, but then sped up. Daryl? What was going on?

"I do, yes. Is he all right."

"I'm afraid Mr. Dixon has been involved in a serious accident. He's currently in surgery."

"How bad is it?" Rick was already on his feet, toeing his shoes back on. Sometimes the cop autopilot came in damn handy.

"Can you come in? Also, do you happen to know if Mr. Dixon has any family?"

"A brother called Merle. I don't have a number."

"Actually that's ok, the only number in his cell's phonebook beside your own is for a Merle."

"I'm on my way now, but tell me how bad it is, please."

There was a brief hesitation on the other end.

"Don't delay setting off, Rick."


	7. Chapter 7

Rick's cop mode made it possible for him to tune out worrisome thoughts better than a regular person, and he was confident he could drive safely into Atlanta. On the drive he puzzled mostly over two things.

The first was the question why Daryl was in a hospital in Atlanta. Had he gone back to the city after he had left Rick's apartment? It seemed unlikely. The other option, Rick decided, was more likely: The EMTs at the accident had decided that his injuries were too severe to be treated in the much closer, but smaller, county hospital. The thought made Rick's blood freeze in his veins, the same as when the woman calling from the hospital had said that he should hurry.

The second thing that puzzled Rick was that his number was the only other one saved in Daryl's phone beside Merle's. Maybe Daryl was just really good at remembering numbers and didn't save any in there unless it was for a new contact. But why then have his brother's number in there, too? Rick knew he wouldn't figure this one out easily.

There was nothing else to do on the drive now but focus on the road, and try to ignore the guilt that kept creeping to the forefront of his mind if he let it. Had Rick not behaved so badly towards Daryl the man would now be safely in Rick's bed, and not fighting for his life in the hospital.

"I am Officer Grimes. I am here to see a patient who was brought in after a road accident earlier? The name is Daryl Dixson."

Rick was not above pulling rank if it meant he could avoid some red tape and speed things up.

The receptionist consulted her monitor briefly, then said, "Fifth floor."

"Thank you."

In the elevator Rick thought to himself that at least he was going to a ward, not a morgue, even though the sign next to the button for the fifth floor read ICU.

Rick got out when the lift stopped and approached the nurses' station.

"I am looking for Daryl Dixon. He was in an accident earlier?"

The nurse seated behind the counter looked up, but a man standing behind her turned around as well and spoke first.

"Are you Rick?"

Rick nodded, but added, "Officer Rick Grimes. I'm with the police department in King County."

The man who had addressed him appraised him and then came round to Rick's side of the counter.

"I am Dr. Edwards, but please, call me Steven." The doctor didn't extend his hand, but smiled at Rick. Then he gestured towards a seating area nearby which at this late hour was deserted.

Rick walked over and sat down. He was feeling tired, two trips to Atlanta in a day and bad news all around will do that to the best cop. The doctor sat down opposite him.

"Tell me how he is." Rick didn't want to waste any more time. "And tell me what happened."

Dr. Edwards hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Strictly speaking, I am not allowed to tell you, since you aren't next of kin. But," he raised his voice slightly as Rick started to protest. "You are police, so that makes it sort of ok. And I have a few questions, too. But more about that later.

"First of all, he's stable for now, though it was touch and go for a bit. He's lost a lot of blood, and we have put him in an artificial coma so that his body can start to heal, but he's in no immediate danger.

"He has sustained severe internal injuries. We have had to remove his spleen, and part of his liver, because they were so severely damaged. I am sure you know that he will be able to live without a spleen with few complications, and that the liver will mostly recover itself."

Rick nodded.

"The left kidney was also damaged badly, but for now we have been able to save it. Hopefully it will heal with time. Daryl has also suffered several broken ribs and as a consequence his left lung collapsed. We've repaired that. And lastly he's got a broken collarbone and wrist, both on the left.

"As to what happened, it's both straightforward and complicated. Daryl was involved in an accident while riding a motorcycle. He swerved into the opposite lane on one of the country roads not far from his home, and was hit by an oncoming car. The driver of that car called the ambulance, and because of the extent of his injuries the EMTs decided he was better off with us than the local hospital, despite the risk of the longer journey. And they weren't wrong."

That was one of Rick's musings answered.

"But you have no idea why he swerved?"

Dr. Edwards hesitated again. "Not exactly, no…"

"Why did you say it was both straightforward and complicated?" Rick asked.

There was a prolonged pause. "Daryl didn't wear any protective biker clothing, that's partly why his injuries are as bad as they are. However, he did wear a helmet."

When he stopped again, Rick prompted. "That's good, right?"

"Yes," the doctor nodded. "It is very good. Only, he also has an injury on the side of his head, which is not at all in line with what we would expect in someone wearing a helmet. Concussion, yes, and he has that as well, but not from the kind of blunt trauma we saw on Daryl. The wound looks," and now the doctor was scratching his beard in puzzlement, "as if someone hit him with a heavy object, like a baseball bat."

Rick pondered this for a moment. Then he asked slowly. "Did Daryl say anything at all before you put him under?"

"He was unconscious when the EMTs brought him in. But they told us the only thing he kept repeating before they sedated him for the journey were two names: Yours, that's also why we decided to call you when we saw your number in Daryl's phone."

"And the other?"

"Carol."

Rick's brain was taking a few moments to process this information. Finally he looked at the doctor again.

"Do you know if Daryl's brother has been in yet?"

Dr. Edwards nodded. "He's here at the moment. The ER doc took him away to sign some paperwork. In fact," he cocked his head, "I think he's coming back now."

Rick was puzzled for a second, until he could hear a man talking very loudly. A moment later that man stepped around a corner and into view. If Rick hadn't known that they were brothers he would never have guessed.

Merle looked to be around 50, and Rick thought he had rarely seen a better example of redneck turned small time drug lord. He was wearing a faded but clearly expensive coat and a hat. He was accompanied by a rather timid looking doctor wearing scrubs, and gesticulating wildly while talking non-stop.

"… good thing I just paid up for his health insurance, useless little fucker. And that bike's trashed. He'll not live that one down, I'm tellin' ya…"

He trailed off when Rick stepped in front of him.

"Are you Merle Dixon?"

Merle eyed him suspiciously. "Who're you? One of his queer friends?"

Rick had had dealings with too many men like Merle in his life to rise to the challenge.

"Officer Rick Grimes. Now, are you Merle Dixon?"

Merle nodded reluctantly.

"Mr. Dixon, can you please tell me if you know someone called Carol?"

It was obvious that Merle hadn't expected that question. "Ed's wife? Why?"

"Can you please tell me where Carol and her husband live?"

Merle still looked puzzled but seemed to decide that this strange question from a police officer was no reason to get himself into trouble. He recited an address to Rick, who committed it to memory.

"Now, if that's all," Merle spat, "I'd like to get out of here. I've had a fuckin' long day."

Rick stepped aside. "You are free to leave."

Merle snorted and stomped away. Rick turned back to the doctor, who stood by the seats, looking confused.

"I will have to make a quick phone call, and then I want to see Daryl, if that's all right?"

Rick steeled himself before entering Daryl's room behind the doctor, but the sight still took his breath away. He'd been quick about the call to his colleagues at the police station in Daryl's district, but had impressed on them the seriousness of the situation, and the real danger that woman Carol was still in. He hoped they'd bring Ed in without wasting time. He'd follow up with them as soon as he could.

For now, though, his focus was on the man in the hospital bed before him. Somehow, Daryl looked a lot smaller lying there than Rick remembered him. He supposed that the size of the bed and the ill-fitting hospital gown would have that effect on almost anyone.

There were tubes and wires everywhere, just as he had expected. What he hadn't been prepared for were all the bruises and scrapes. And, Rick reminded himself, that was only the bruising that was visible on his exposed skin.

One of his eyes was a dark purple, almost black, and with a sick feeling Rick wondered whether that was from Ed's beating or the accident. He had a feeling he would wonder about that a lot in the upcoming days. There was a large gauze patch on his left temple, and around that more bruising. Several places on his cheeks and forehead looked bloody, like he had scraped over the tarmac. His face was very pale.

As Daryl was still in the artificial coma he couldn't breathe on his own, and a tube had been inserted through his mouth. The machines keeping him alive were beeping and humming all around, giving Rick a headache already. There were several IV bags with corresponding lines arrayed around the bed, and Rick could see a unit or two of blood as well.

When he stepped closer Rick could also see that there were faint traces of blood on the front of Daryl's hospital shirt. He turned to the doctor.

"Why is he still bleeding?"

Dr. Edwards placed a hand lightly on Rick's arm. "His injuries were very severe and the doctors were in there for a long time. He's been given anticoagulants to keep clots from forming, and sometimes that leads to some bleeding from the incision. It's completely normal and it'll stop soon. Go and sit with him now."

The doctor motioned to a chair next to Daryl's bed on the right side. Rick nodded his thanks and the doctor left. Slowly, as if to not disturb Daryl, Rick stepped over to the bed and sat on the chair.

He wasn't sure what to do next. After hesitating for a few moments he took Daryl's right hand, which was one of the few areas free of bandages, though a needle had been inserted into his wrist. Careful not to touch that Rick started stroking the back of the other man's hand.

"I am so sorry for all of this, man." Rick's voice sounded alien to himself. He cleared his throat. "I should never have done what I did to you. You didn't do anything to deserve it. It's all been such a mess…"

He broke off, swallowing back tears that were threatening to well up. He knew it was unlikely that Daryl could hear any of this, and he'd have to repeat it all once he was awake, but Rick just had to say it.

"Carol will be fine, they're arresting Ed now. I'll call again soon for an update."

Rick looked again at Daryl's unmoving features, his pallor making his heart ache. He squeezed Daryl's hand carefully.

"Please hang in there. I will stay right here, I won't leave you alone again."


	8. Chapter 8

The next week was a blur of activity for Rick. He went back to King County Sunday afternoon, with reassurances from Dr. Edwards that they would call him the moment there was a change with Daryl.

Ed was in custody. Rick didn't have any details yet but the sheriff's deputy who had arrested him told Rick that Carol was safe.

On Monday morning, before he even got to the office Rick made a phone call and requested to be put on desk duty for the foreseeable future. He did this with a heavy heart, but he knew that if he didn't drop some of the balls he had in the air it'd be him who dropped next.

When he got to the station he sent a more formal request to his superiors asking to be reassigned a new partner. The sheriff's office was not large, so Rick wasn't sure how well he'd be able to avoid Shane. He also wasn't sure what he'd do when he would lay eyes on him again. His best guess was that he'd sock him in the jaw.

In the end he didn't. Rick kept to his desk most of the day and only glimpsed Shane once, as he strode through the office, head down as well, avoiding Rick and seemingly anybody else.

On Tuesday Rick had a meeting with the sheriff to discuss his requests, which were granted without fuss. He also got permission to take all his overtime, and as needed any unpaid leave. The sheriff was sympathetic, presumably assuming Rick needed the time to sort out his family troubles. Rick didn't disabuse him of that idea.

Rick had never taken off that much time all at once but he didn't feel too guilty. He had people depending on him elsewhere, and he wouldn't let them down.

The first thing Rick did with the additional time off was to really press the case for a hearing before the custody judge. Finally, on Thursday, the long awaited letter with the court date arrived. Rick cursed when he had ripped open the envelope. The date was set for six weeks later.

Rick was still fuming when his phone rang. He recognized the number, Dr. Edwards had called him several times that week already, always with the same update. Daryl was stable, no change.

"Dr. Edwards. What's up?"

"I wish you'd call me Steven. I don't call you Officer Grimes, either."

Rick had to smile, and relaxed. If something was wrong the doctor wouldn't waste time with chit chat. Rick liked Dr. Edwards, he had been more than helpful. Steven, Rick reminded himself.

"Sorry. How is he?"

"Good news, Rick. His tests are coming back better every day. We want to bring him round tomorrow afternoon. Will you be able to be here? It'd be good if there was a familiar face around."

Rick was less optimistic that Daryl would want to see him, but the doctor didn't know what had happened on the night of the accident.

"I'll be there for 2pm."

Rick was standing near the door, trying to stay out of the way of the doctor and nurses around the bed. He also tried not to think too much about what they were doing. Medical procedures always made him feel a bit faint.

"He's fighting the vent, which is good," Dr. Edwards said over his shoulder for Rick's benefit. "We've been lowering the amounts of anesthetics over the last 24 hours, and he's started to come round. We can now take the tube out."

Rick nodded but didn't look too closely until the doctor turner to him again after about ten minutes.

"All done. He's not fully awake yet but it'll not be long now. He'll be quite hoarse from the tube and won't be able to talk much for a while. He might also feel nauseous from the drugs." The doctor indicated a basin sitting on the bedside table. "Be prepared."

His pager buzzed and he briefly looked at it, then back at Rick.

"I'll have to answer this, but I'll be back soon. Doris here will stay with you both." He indicated the nurse still busy adjusting equipment. She looked up and smiled at Rick.

"If there's anything either of you need, let her know." With that Dr. Edwards left the room.

Rick went back to his seat by the bedside. He'd spent many hours right here in the last week and had gotten somewhat used to the sight of Daryl with all the needles poking and prodding him, but now he felt new waves of anxiety. What if Daryl reacted badly to his presence, as Rick knew he would have any right to?

He watched Daryl's face, no longer perfectly still as before. His forehead creased almost to a frown every so often, and his eyes seemed on the verge of opening several times, as if he was struggling with all his might to come out of the drugged sleep. It still took almost an hour before he fully opened his eyes. The nurse had just left the room for the first time, reassuring Rick that all was as it should be and that she'd be back shortly.

Rick noticed Daryl moving his head in his direction and leaned closer. He took his hand again carefully and spoke quietly.

"Daryl. Can you hear me?"

Finally Daryl's eyes opened and he looked at Rick with a glassy, out of focus gaze.

"Daryl, it's Rick. You are in the hospital, don't be afraid."

Daryl tried to speak but no sound came.

"You've had a tube in your throat to help you breathe. That's made you very hoarse. It'll take some time to pass."

Rick wasn't sure Daryl had really heard him as he tried again to speak.

"Wha'...happen..."

"You had an accident with Merle's motorcycle. You've been here almost a week."

Rick could see the information penetrating Daryl's fogged mind. He suddenly looked panicked, even tried to sit up. Rick could see a dark cloud in his eyes as pain was descending on Daryl. He gave up the attempt before Rick could say or do anything and closed his eyes with an almost inaudible groan. Rick put a hand gently on Daryl's shoulder and held him fast until the pain passed. Finally Daryl opened his eyes again.

"Carol," he mouthed.

"She's safe. Ed is in custody. Daryl, we can talk about all of this when you're stronger, but Carol is in no danger now."

Daryl looked briefly relieved, then suddenly the little color left in his face drained away.

"Feel... sick."

Rick was glad the doctor had warned him this might happen. Without the mental preparation he was sure they would have made a mess of it. As it was he grabbed the basin just in time and helped Daryl lean over.

By rights there should have been nothing in Daryl's stomach to come up, since he'd been on IV nutrients only for a week. The only thing to bring up, Rick mused, would be bile, and judging by the time Daryl was bent over retching there was a lot.

When he finally leaned back on the pillows Daryl's color had gone from white to grey, he was shaking and covered in perspiration. Rick could see tears streaking his still bruised face.

At that moment the nurse came back. Rick was glad to hand her the basin, and she disappeared for a moment, returning with a cool wet cloth and ice chips.

"I'll do it," Rick said and took the cup and cloth from her. He briefly wondered when he'd turned into such a possessive man. He'd done all right caring for Carl or Lori when they were sick but he'd never sought out any unpleasant tasks.

"Make sure he only takes a little ice at a time." Doris smiled and disappeared again.

Rick went back to Daryl's side. The other man's eyes were closed, and his right arm was cradling his chest. Rick carefully placed the wet cloth on Daryl's forehead, at which Daryl opened his eyes.

"Are you in pain?" Rick could see the answer in the other man's eyes.

"I'll call the nurse." But at that Daryl reached out and put his hand on Rick's arm. He shook his head and whispered, "'s ok... f'now."

Rick acquiesced and sat back down.

"Here, have some ice."

Rick held out a small sliver on the spoon the nurse had brought with the cup. Daryl let Rick put the ice in his mouth but Rick could tell that he was fighting hard to keep his eyes open. He set the cup and spoon aside and picked up the cloth again.

Gently wiping away the sweat from Daryl's brow and smoothing some strands of hair from his forehead he put his head close to Daryl's and whispered, "Get some proper sleep now." When he looked at him again Daryl was fast asleep.

Rick stayed at the hospital the rest of the day and spent the night curled up on the armchair Dr. Edwards had had an orderly bring in a few days after Daryl had been admitted, when he'd realized that Rick had spent a night sitting on the chair by Daryl's bed.

At one time during the night a shrill beeping noise from one of the machines around Daryl's bed had woken Rick and he'd been on his feet in seconds. Before he could do more than cover the distance to the bed a nurse had been there. She calmly looked Daryl over and reattached the pulse oximeter to Daryl's forefinger.

"Nothing to worry about." She smiled at Rick. "Now that he's awake he'll move in his sleep and things might slip off. I'll turn this to silent, we monitor it from outside anyway."

When Rick woke the next morning, neck stiff, not feeling very rested and yet with a hopeful feeling, he thought that someone was looking at him even before he opened his eyes.

When he did open them Daryl's head was turned in his direction and he was observing Rick calmly. When he realized Rick was looking back at him he smiled.

"Morning."

The voice still sounded hoarse, but it was recognizably Daryl's. The hopeful feeling in Rick intensified. He got up, stretched and stepped over to Daryl's side. His eyes looked much clearer than the previous night.

"How are you feeling?"

Daryl grimaced. "Like I got hit by a truck."

"It wasn't a truck." Rick said, sitting down in his usual chair. "But you got hit all right."

He leaned forward a bit. "Daryl, what happened?" He hesitated a second. "Did someone beat you up before you had the accident?"

"T'was Ed. Rick, you said Carol is safe?" His eyes were pleading.

Rick nodded. "She is fine. Ed's in custody. Local PD won't tell me any more, but I am not letting up until they do.

"Of course, to keep him away we'll have to do more. Daryl, are you willing to press charges?"

Daryl took a deep breath, then winced. There was definitely a lot of discomfort still, and Rick made a mental note to bring in someone with pain meds soon.

"Yes."

Daryl nodded, letting out his breath slowly to avoid more aggravation. He looked at Rick.

"I'm fuckin' terrified, but I will."

Rick took Daryl's right hand again. He had some things to say, even though so far Daryl had given no indication that he was holding a grudge.

"I want to apologize, for what I did on that night. I can't stop thinking about how none of this," he waved vaguely at the room, "would have happened if I hadn't lost it."

Daryl made an impatient noise. "Don't beat yourself up, man. I'm not blaming you. It was my decision to go round to Ed's house.

"'Sides, I know you weren't really angry with me, I just caught the tail end. 'sides, you've made it up to me ten times over. You helped Carol. And you are here, with me."

There was so much gentleness in Daryl's voice, it made Rick's throat go tight.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on? I might not be a great talker, but I'm good at listening."

Rick squeezed Daryl's hand but found he couldn't look at the other man.

"I will, sometime. But not now."

Daryl's thumb was stroking the back of Rick's hand, just like Rick had done countless time in the last week.

"Fair enough. I won't be going nowhere soon, so whenever you're ready."

In the afternoon Dr. Edwards came by to inform them that Daryl would be transferred to a different ward.

"Now that you are breathing on your own and are making good progress you'll not need all this stuff." He indicated the beeping machines.

"We just have to take out the last couple of drains from the incision." He looked at Rick. "Do you want to step out? With Daryl awake," he smiled apologetically at them both, "this is not going to be very pleasant."

Rick would have sooner cut off his own arm than leave Daryl's side when there was guaranteed to be pain.

"I'm staying."

Dr. Edwards nodded. "Good. You can help. Stay on Daryl's right and hold his hand. Works better than any pain meds. Which I'll give as well, of course."

He motioned to the nurse who inserted a needle into one of the IV lines. Then the doctor folded down the sheets to expose Daryl's midriff. Rick hadn't actually seen the surgery site before, and while he wasn't too keen on all of this he couldn't look away. Dr. Edwards carefully pushed the hospital gown up.

The incision went down the middle of Daryl's belly, starting just beneath the sternum and trailing all the way down to his belly button. There were two drains still sneaking out between the stitches, and the sight of these bloodied tubes made Rick look away.

"You look a bit pale, man." Daryl sounded tense himself.

Rick sat down and took Daryl's hand again.

Dr. Edwards said, "Don't look now, Rick, just focus on something else. Daryl, I'll start pulling the first one out now."

Daryl's hand gripped Rick's hard. Rick focused on the other man's face, which was draining of color again. Daryl closed his eyes, his brows knitting together in discomfort, biting his lower lip hard. When the first line was out he relaxed somewhat.

"One more," Rick heard the doctor say.

This time Daryl gave a low moan as soon as Dr. Edwards touched the line.

"Sorry, Daryl. I think there's a bit of an infection here."

Daryl turned his face away, but Rick saw the single tear running down his cheek. He cried out when the line finally came free.

"All done."

Dr. Edwards made quick work finishing up, affixing some gauze on the sites where the drains had been - Rick couldn't help but look again – and pulling the gown and sheet into place.

"I'll add some antibiotics to your meds to clear up that infection. It's nothing to worry about, really, and everything else is looking good." He smiled at them both. "Sorry about this, but I can promise there won't be any more torture today. I've upped your painkillers too, Daryl, so try and get some rest now. They'll be in soon to transfer you, but you don't need to be awake for that."

With that Dr. Edwards left. Rick looked at Daryl and was glad to see his color returning slowly.

"That was unpleasant."

Daryl grimaced. "No shit." His eyes looked glazed again and were starting to fall shut.

Rick reached out and stroked his still pale face. He'd not done this so far, it felt quite nice.

"Go to sleep now."


	9. Chapter 9

Rick arranged a four day per week schedule at work that allowed him to go to Atlanta almost every other day. It wasn't good for his salary but he had an exceptional track record and the sheriff gave him a large amount of leeway. Rick felt compelled at this point to give something closer to the true reason for his absences, and told the sheriff that he was helping a friend who was in hospital.

Daryl was of course not just a friend. As he grew stronger and was able to talk more Rick discovered just how much he enjoyed being with him. Behind Daryl's quiet manner was a kind heart, a sense of humor and a quick mind. Rick tried not to betray his surprise whenever Daryl showed how much he knew.

"Merle is messed up," he explained on one occasion when Rick expressed his admiration for some insight Daryl had shared. "But he's always liked to read. Rubbed off, I s'pose."

At the thought of Merle, however, Daryl's eyes grew dark. Rick guessed that it hurt him more than he admitted that Merle hadn't showed his face once since that first day. One evening when Rick got to his room he'd heard Daryl's raised voice before he'd even opened the door. Startled by the sound Rick had barged in without knocking, just when Daryl was slamming the hospital phone down hard. He had refused to tell Rick what had upset him, just that it had been Merle on the phone. He'd been especially quiet ever since.

It was Friday, almost two weeks after the accident, and Rick had been in Atlanta since Thursday evening. He was sitting almost motionless, trying to read a magazine, while Daryl dozed fitfully. Rick knew he'd been in a lot of pain the last few days and had not gotten much sleep. That was partly why Rick had come over right after work the night before.

The doctors were keen for Daryl to start eating normally as soon as possible. He'd been mostly on special nutrient shakes and soft foods since they'd brought him round but Daryl was struggling even with those. Oftentimes, nothing would stay down, and the vomiting aggravated the pain from the incision. He was still immobile, beside the large wound on his abdomen, the broken collarbone and wrist made sitting up or even turning over unaided virtually impossible. The constant vomiting only made him weaker.

Daryl had had a particularly bad night, where no position Rick helped him into did not bring discomfort within minutes, and the doctor had agreed to some additional doses of painkillers. Rick wasn't sure they were doing anything, though. Daryl's face looked very drawn. It was also becoming noticeable just how much weight he'd lost in the last two weeks.

Rick was just frowning down at Daryl with these thoughts coursing through his head when there was a knock on the door. A moment later the face of a woman peeked around the door. Rick didn't recognize her. She stepped through properly and smiled at Rick shyly.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. I wasn't sure whether there would be anyone with him." She stepped forward hesitantly and stretched out a hand. "I'm Carol."

At that Rick got up and covered the distance between them quickly. He shook her hand warmly when he reached her.

"I'm Rick. It's so good to finally meet you, Carol."

"I have been told about you," she smiled. "The officer who's looking after me has mentioned that you keep giving them a hard time, wanting to know what's going on with my husband." Carol's eyes went hard on the last word.

Rick looked her over. She was slight, and no more than 5'6. Her grey hair was cropped very short, and she had an air of nervousness about her that was familiar to Rick from other abuse victims. Carol now looked over at the bed.

"How is he?"

"Not great today, the pain's been quite bad. He had a restless night, but he's finally dropped off."

Rick motioned to the door. "Do you mind if we step outside? I have some questions I'd like to ask you, but I don't want Daryl to wake up again just yet."

Carol nodded and opened the door. Rick stepped out behind her and closed it quietly. There were some seats a few feet down the corridor. Carol went over to them and sat down. Rick sat next to her.

"Can you tell me what happened that night? I have not been very successful at getting much out of the sheriff's department at your end."

Carol looked down at her hands. "Daryl came to our house really late that night. Ed had been drinking heavily and was in a right temper because he was waiting for Merle." She looked at Rick. "Do you know about Merle?"

Rick nodded. "Daryl's brother. I saw him, that first night. He's not been back since."

Carol looked at Rick. Her eyes were hard as glass. "Good. Rick, whatever you do, don't let Merle take Daryl home." Her voice was much stronger now, and she looked angry. "That man is bad news. He's been selling Ed drugs for years, and that night, when it happened, Merle was supposed to come over and talk to Ed about going into business with him, selling drugs. Ed had lost his job a couple of months ago, because of his drinking and all the drugs.

"Rick, don't even leave Merle alone with Daryl, if he shows up. He's a very dangerous man, and Daryl knows about the drugs. Merle is paranoid, I've heard him talk when he's been over at ours. He thinks Daryl will grass on him as well as Ed. I bet he's nervous as hell now that the police are poking around. I think he stays away because he suspects you are here most of the time. On top of all that, he despise Daryl for being gay."

Rick took Carol's hand, which lay balled on her knee, and smoothed her fingers gently. "I will do my best to ensure that he can't get to Daryl." An idea was starting to form at the back of his head.

"Did Ed hurt you that night as well, before the police showed up?" To his surprise Carol smiled.

"No. When Ed threw Daryl out I ran to get Sophia. My daughter," she added. "We climbed out of Sophia's window and went round to the front of the house. I was going to get Daryl away from there, but he was gone when we got there.

"Sophia and I went to our neighbor Dale, and hid in his house. He turned all the lights off and we stayed very quiet in the living room. Ed went round all the neighbors, banging on the doors, but we just stayed down. A couple hours later we saw the flashing lights from the police car that was sent to arrest Ed. They said you asked them to do that?"

Rick nodded, and Carol smiled. "Thank you. When I saw them go into our house I went out and talked to them. I told them what Ed has been doing to me and Sophia, and what he'd just done to Daryl. Daryl being so brave gave me strength to be brave, too, I guess. I wish I'd done this years ago!"

Rick squeezed her hand which he was still holding. "You were both very brave, yes. I just wish Daryl had gone about it a bit differently."

Carol looked at him, and Rick saw that she understood some of his pain. "Me too, Rick. But at least now he's got you, finally someone who will help."

A nurse stepped from Daryl's room, then and came over. "He's awake. I just thought I'd tell you. I've given him another dose of meds, he's feeling better now."

Rick smiled his thanks and looked at Carol. "Do you want to go in and see him? I think I'll go and get a coffee and stretch my legs for a few minutes, if you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't mind." She looked him straight into the eyes. "Rick, when have you last slept properly? I don't know you, but I can tell that you are close to exhaustion." Her motherly concern made Rick feel bashful and amused. He got up.

"I won't be long."

Daryl's face betrayed his disbelief when Carol stepped through the door. He tried to sit up further, forgetting his injuries for a moment and instantly paying for it. Carol hurried to his side as he gritted his teeth and clutched his middle.

"Here." She raised the bed a little with the help of the remote control hanging on the side. "Stay still now until the pain passes."

She sat down in Rick's chair and waited patiently while Daryl breathed through the pain. When he was able to concentrate on something outside himself again he looked up.

"You are ok." He reached out with his right hand and touched her face. "He didn't get you again?"

Carol shook her head and told Daryl what had happened.

"It's just Sophia and me in the house now. Of course things must change, I need to start earning money so we can pay the bills. But I've got a job lined up already. It's just stacking shelves for now, but it's a start. Daryl, you saved my life, in more than one sense." She looked him up and down. "I just wish you didn't have to suffer through this for me to get free."

Daryl shrugged, then winced and sighed. He was so fed up with his body being broken, with being laid up in bed. If he'd had the strength he'd have started throwing things around the room days ago.

"It's happened, nothing we can do now. And it's not all bad. I've got Rick." Daryl was surprised that he'd actually said it. He'd been marveling at his luck all week, thinking about Rick to distract himself when the pain was too much or the nausea hit.

The smile Carol gave him was full of warmth.

"Rick is a good man, I can tell. But there's something going on with him..."

Daryl nodded. "I know. He won't talk about it, though." Saying it out loud was surprisingly painful. Daryl knew he had no right to demand that Rick open up. He still barely knew him. But it hurt that Rick wouldn't let Daryl help, even a little, when he helped Daryl all the time.

"Give him time," Carol said. "He'll come round. Just don't let yourself get hurt again."

Daryl shook his head. "Rick would not hurt me, not now."

Carol looked at him with puzzlement, but seemed to decide she had pried enough in that direction.

"Has Merle been to see you?"

Daryl looked away. "Rick says he was here the first night. He's not been back, but he's phoned once." He looked at Carol. "I'm scared of him, Carol."

"Can't blame you." Her eyes were hard. "What did he say?"

"That he'll make me pay for smashing his bike. That I have to start pulling my weight if I want to stay with him. He..."

He couldn't go on. A sudden wave of nausea hit and he had to use all his willpower to control it.

"Daryl, are you all right?"

Daryl closed his eyes. There was a niggling pain in his left side, towards the back, that had been increasing all day.

"Been better. Doctors keep nagging me to eat, but nothing stays put."

As if on cue he felt the vertiginous warning sensation he got just before throwing up. Luckily Carol's reflexes were good. She had located the basin and grabbed it just in time.

Daryl hated puking, he always had. When they'd been younger Merle had often dragged Daryl along to binge sessions with his friends, until Daryl had refused to go. They'd usually tried to force him to drink until he passed out, finding it amusing for some reason to see him lose control, and sneering at him for being too weak to hold his liquor. Daryl had always felt wretched the next day, spending a lot of the morning, and sometimes most of the day, curled up on the bathroom floor. When he'd put his foot down and no longer given in to Merle's demands and threats Merle had become very angry. That had been one of the things that had created the rift between the brothers.

When the bout of sickness passed Carol helped him to shift into a more comfortable position. She went to wet a towel in the bathroom and wiped his face gently, just like Rick did.

"I think the doctors are missing something," she said. "You definitely have a fever. I'll talk to Rick when he comes back."

Daryl kept his eyes closed. He willed the sick feeling to go away, without much success. The pain in his back suddenly doubled and he groaned, pressing a hand on the spot.

He could sense Carol standing up. "Never mind Rick." Daryl opened his eyes to see her reaching for the nurses' button on the wall.

It was getting dark outside. Rick was back on his perch by Daryl's bed. He'd come back after his stroll to heightened activity around the sick bed. Nurses came and went and Dr. Edwards was back. They hadn't seen him since Daryl had been moved from the ICU.

Daryl had looked so awful it had torn Rick's heart apart. Curled up on his right as much as he could manage, his arm wrapped around his middle and his hand pressed on his left side he'd looked so vulnerable. Carol had pulled Rick to one side so the medical staff could do their work. Dr. Edwards had stepped over to them shortly thereafter.

"It's the kidney that got damaged in the accident. He's developed a bad infection. That's what has made his nausea so bad, too."

Rick's eye fell on the Foley bag hanging by the end of the bed. He could clearly see traces of blood in there.

"Why did the doctors not spot this? Even I can see it. And he's been feeling awful for days..."

Dr. Edwards followed Rick's gaze. "The bloody urine is probably a recent deterioration. Kidney infections often get bad very quickly. He is on antibiotics now, and I have given him IV Anzemet, that will help with the nausea." He looked at Rick. "I'm sorry we dropped the ball. It won't happen again. I have requested to be kept appraised on his condition throughout, and I'll make sure everything is done right."

Rick nodded. "Thank you, Steven."

And now he was back to keeping watch. Rick rubbed his face. He was so tired, he wished there was somewhere he could lie down properly. The worry for Daryl had pushed everything else to one side for days now. As much as he wanted to be here, and have this man become part of his life, he wished that some of the responsibility he felt could, at least temporarily, be transferred elsewhere.


	10. Chapter 10

During Saturday Daryl's condition improved and Dr. Edwards confirmed that the antibiotics were working and Daryl would not lose the kidney. Rick considered staying in Atlanta another day and calling into work, but Daryl convinced him it wasn't necessary.

"I don't want you to lose your job, on top of everything else."

Rick, standing by Daryl's bed and already wearing his jacket, sighed. "You are right. I'll be back on Monday night." He leaned down and gave Daryl a chaste kiss. They still had to work on the intimacy, the hospital environment had made them oddly shy around each other.

Daryl took Rick's hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "I'll look forward to Monday, then."

After assurances from Daryl that he had everything he needed and admonishments to get a proper night's sleep -"You look like death warmed over, man," - Rick took his leave.

Monday morning found Rick cursing down the phone again. Lawyers were so useless! What did he pay that idiot for, anyway?

He was in a temper for the rest of the day, not helped by the ridiculous amount of paperwork all over his desk. Rick knew that asking to be assigned to desk duty had been the right - probably the only - decision to make, but he was getting bored of it. The thought that kept him going was that this wouldn't be an indefinite situation and that when Daryl was better and he had sorted things out with the custody for Carl he could go back to being a real cop.

Spotting Shane at the other end of the office Rick gritted his teeth. There was another reason why he was better off behind his desk for now. They hadn't as much as exchanged a glance since Lori had told Rick about her infidelity, and Rick wasn't sorry. To his credit, Shane made himself as rare as he could and Rick never saw him for more than a minute or two around the station. Going to Atlanta so much also meant that Rick was distracted and never got to dwell on his fantasies about what he'd like to do to Shane.

The thought of Atlanta brought his mind back to Daryl, which was where Rick's thoughts were predominantly these days. He didn't just think about all the worry and the pain, though that was never very far away. Increasingly, it was just Daryl's voice and the way he looked at Rick that floated back to Rick's mind several times a day.

They had talked on the phone for almost an hour the night before. Daryl had told Rick about the book he had started to read that day, and some silly TV show he said he could become addicted to. Something to do with zombies? Rick wasn't sure. He'd mostly just delighted in the fact that Daryl was well enough to read a book and hold an entire conversation without falling asleep halfway through.

Rick left the office at lunchtime to drive to Atlanta, but he didn't go to the hospital straight away. He hadn't told anyone about this plan, but strongly hoped something would come of the meeting that he'd set up for that afternoon. He couldn't wait to tell Daryl about it, but he knew he had to hold off for a while yet.

He arrived at Grady Memorial around six in the evening. Rick thought the meeting had gone well, but it'd be a couple of weeks at least until he'd find out whether this could go any further. Still, Rick was in a more hopeful mood than he'd been in days.

The door to Daryl's room was slightly ajar. Rick knew that this usually meant a doctor or a nurse had dashed in there briefly, and he was so used now to watching them prod and poke, or clean things up, he decided to just go in. In any case, if something was wrong he'd like to know sooner rather than later.

It wasn't a nurse or doctor with Daryl, however. Rick recognized the man right away, though he couldn't work out why he would be here. Merle was standing on Daryl's left side, bent over the bed and gripping Daryl's left shoulder hard. Rick instantly saw the expression of pain on Daryl's face. His left side was still bandaged and immobilized with a sling because of the broken collarbone. Merle's hand had no right to be anywhere near it, and certainly not exerting any pressure.

Oddly, Daryl didn't make a sound, though Rick was sure if he hadn't been biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood he would be screaming.

"I am warning you, if you don't do exactly as I say..." Merle's voice was full of malice and he seemed to be increasing the pressure on Daryl's shoulder even more. Daryl let out a small whimper.

Rick was next to Merle in a flash. The man seemed hardly to realize that somebody had entered the room when Rick already had him in a vice-like grip and was marching him across the room and out the door. He shoved Merle hard, and the other man stumbled against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

Rick looked daggers at him, his voice was like ice. "Don't you ever come in here again." Merle spat at the floor.

"Don't you tell me what to do, Officer Friendly."

Rick spotted a security guard just up the hall near the nurse's station and motioned to him. The guard, who Rick remembered was called Bill, came over looking politely puzzled. "Bill, could you please escort this gentleman off the premises. He's not at liberty to return, unless he's bleeding out, in which case I am happy to show him to the ER."

Bill, who knew that Rick was a cop, did as he was asked without question. He gripped Merle hard by the arm and marched him away.

Rick returned to the room. Daryl had curled up on his side, just like he had done when he'd been overwhelmed with the nausea from the kidney infection. Now his face was streaked with tears, which he tried to hide from Rick.

Rick wasn't having any of this, though. He went over to the side of the bed and bent over Daryl. He kept his voice calm and low, even though he wanted to scream.

"Talk to me, Daryl. He's gone, he can't hurt you anymore. Just tell me what he wanted. Why he did this."

Daryl wouldn't look at him, but he did answer. "Please, Rick. Don't make me talk about it, I just can't..."

His voice broke on the last word, and Rick knew he was struggling hard not to start crying in earnest.

Rick sat down on the chair. Rage was still coursing through his veins, but he knew he had to keep himself in check if he didn't want to go down the same route as he had with Daryl in his apartment. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting the other man again, but he desperately wanted to get to the bottom of this. He took a deep breath.

"I don't want to force you to do anything, I just want to keep you safe, Daryl." He reached for the other's hand almost automatically, trying to soothe Daryl's misery through the now so familiar touch. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Daryl, still hiding his face, considered this for a moment. "Just keep him away, if you can," he whispered.

Rick made a phone call to the same cop he had been badgering about updates on Carol, telling him what Merle had done and asking him, cop to cop, to have a word with Merle about it. Then he went to find Dr. Edwards. He brought him back to Daryl's room and told him what had happened.

"How long until Daryl can leave?" Daryl looked at him with alarm, but Rick took his hand again and held it in both of his.

Dr. Edwards considered. "He's almost over the infection, and he's eating better. I want to take the sutures out in a day or two anyway." He looked at Daryl. "We need to start you on physical therapy and get you walking and building your strength back up, but I'd say a week to ten days, if all goes well."

Rick nodded. "Good. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Dr. Edwards smiled. "You are doing all the right things already." With that, the doctor left.

Rick sat down again, still holding Daryl's hand. He looked at him and was sorry to see that he still looked frightened.

"I want you to come home with me when you get out."

Daryl's eyes grew big. "D'you mean that?"

"Yes, I do. I was going to suggest it anyway, but now I could never let you go back to your brother."

Daryl didn't say anything. He looked to Rick like he just couldn't believe what he'd just heard. The look in his eyes was one of such hope and wonder that Rick's throat felt suddenly tight. He knew that Daryl had not experienced much kindness in his life and could see that someone actually wanting him to move in probably felt overwhelming.

Rick stood up and bent over to kiss Daryl gently. He could taste tears on Daryl's lips. He straightened up, and on an impulse climbed onto the bed next to Daryl. It took some careful adjusting so as not to jolt Daryl too much, but eventually they managed to lie quite cozily, Daryl nestled against Rick's side, resting his head on Rick's chest. Comfortable for the first time in this room Rick wondered why it had taken them this long to try this out.


	11. Chapter 11

For Daryl the next week went by quickly. The catheter came out, together with all of the IVs exceptone, which Dr. Edwards capped off. "For emergencies," he said.

Daryl started physiotherapy with a nice young man who came to his room every morning. The exertion of just sitting up on the corner of his bed was too much on the first day, and the nausea returned with a vengeance.

On the second day, dosed up on Tigan, things went better. Supported by Rick Daryl managed to stagger over to the armchair on his compression stockinged feet and managed to stay seated there for thirty minutes before his incision site became too painful. Daryl slept away most of that afternoon, but in the evening he felt properly hungry for the first time since the accident and managed a good part of his rather uninspired hospital dinner.

The day after that the stitches came out. That was not half as horrible as the drains had been, and Daryl actually felt well enough to grin broadlywhen he happened to glance at Rick's face, which had turned rather pale. Without the stitches his incision was less painful, and he felt more confident to move around.

But Daryl didn't feel ready to leave the hospital. He could tell that Rick was getting impatient, so he gave his best to get stronger quickly. He worked very hard during the week to be ready as soon as possible, so much so that on Friday he was in more pain than he'd had all week. Rick had arrived early that morning, and after one look at Daryl he had told the nurses to cancel Daryl's physical therapy for that day. Then he'd climbed in tobednext to Daryl, who was trying to breathe through the pain that was lodged somewhere behind his belly button.

Rick pulled Daryl into his arms carefully. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you were hurting so much?"

He pressed the button for the nurse and when she arrived he requested some pain meds. Daryl was grateful and when the meds kicked in he relaxed. He snuggled into Rick and, feeling safe and cared for, he fell asleep.

On Sunday Daryl and Rick went outside for the first time. Daryl had walked along the corridor, always to the elevator and back, and with fewer and fewer breaks, all week. After resting on Friday he'd felt much better on Saturday, and finally now felt confident that he was approaching a level of strength that would allow him to go outside.

Rick wheeled Daryl down to the ground floor in a wheelchair, which they left outside the door sas they walked slowly towards a set of park benches about a hundred yards from the entrance. The grounds of the hospital weren't the most picturesque, here in the heart of Atlanta, and there weren't many places to sit down, which limited their options.

When they got to the benches, Daryl having walked the entire distance on his own, they sat down.

"I can't make up my mind about your things, Daryl."

Daryl looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your stuff at Merle's." Rick looked Daryl up and down. Daryl was wearing a borrowed coat over his hospital gown, and hospital issue slippers. "I don't think I have ever met anyone who cares so little about possessions."

Daryl shrugged. It was true, he didn't care that he'd had no access to anything he owned. He was used to having very little, having grown up in a house where money was wasted on booze and cigarettes and hardly any was ever left even for sufficient food. The only things that he would reallylike back from Merle's were his clothes, which was the one thing he'd spent any money on. He had an old, battered computer as well, but overall he'd not be sorry never to see any of his things again if that meant neither of them had to go back and deal with Merle.

"'s not important," he mumbled.

But Rick wouldn't let it go. "For now, I think we'll just have to leave it be, anyway. I don't want to rattle Merle, his head is in a fucked-up place already. I'll bring you some clothes of mine for Wednesday, though you'll wear out my shirts something awful with your broad shoulders."

Daryl looked up at Rick, who was grinning. Daryl grinned back, then nudged Rick with his shoulder. He was glad when Rick suggested they head back inside. He didn't want to talk about Merle, or think about him. Of course, neither was realistic.

Daryl had worried himself about the consequencesever since Rick had said he'd take him home. Heknew that Merle was far from finished with him, but he just couldn't tell Rick about that yet. He also knew that looking after him and spending all this time away from workwas already putting a strain on Rick's finances, and that that would only increase when he had another mouth to feed at home.

Maybe, Daryl mused, when he was back to normal in a few weeks, he could do something about this – and maybe,at the same time,give Merle what he wanted.

Back in their room Daryl was glad to lie down. He'd made the re t urnjourney well enough with Rick's help, but this was still the biggest exertion since the accident and his body was none too happy with him.

His cell rang just when he'd settled down. It was Carol.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, Daryl. Is Rick there?"

"Yeah." Daryl motioned to Rick who'd washanging up their coats.

"Can you put me on speakerphone? He should hear this, too."

Daryl lowered the phone and pressed the speaker button, saying to Rick, "Carol has something to tell us."

Rick, looking curious, sat down on the end of the bed.

"Hey, Rick?" Carol's voice sounded a bit tinny and far off.

"Hi there. Is everything all right ?"

"Ed is dead." There was a pause during which Daryl caught Rick's eyes, looking stunned.

"What happened?" Rick tried not to let any emotion show in his voice just yet.

"From what they tell me he started a brawl with sever a l inmates also on remand. He was off his head on cold turkey, and had been acting oddly all day. One of the other thugs stabbed him through the eye with a sharpened spoon. He was dead before he hit the floor."

Carol's voice was emotionless. Daryl didn't know what to think. This was a horrible way to die, but, he reminded himself, this was the man who'd been hitting his wife with a baseball bat.

"Wow, Carol," was all he could bring himself to say.

"I am not sorry that bastard is gone." There was real steel in Carol's voice, and Daryl knewthat this new Carol was not someone he ever wanted to cross.

"Amazingly," Carol added, "Ed had still been paying into his life insurance until he was fired. I've already been in touch with them, they'll pay us a nice sum. I won't have to stick with the shelf stacking job. I'm thinking of taking some evening classes at the community college, actually."

They rang off shortly after that. Rick looked as stunned as Daryl felt.

"This was ...unexpected," he said. Daryl nodded. Rick added, "Maybe Merle will lay off now, too. After all, without a trial against Ed you are not really a threat against him."

Daryl didn't say anything. He would love toshareRick's optimism, but he knew his brother too well for that.

And then, in no time at all, or so it seemed to Daryl, it was Wednesday and he was getting ready to leave the hospital. He'd actually been allowed to shower, supervised by a male nurse, for the first time since being in the hospital. Rick had arrived early and had brought him sweatpants and an old sweater that was just about broad enough in the shoulders. Daryl felt like he'd lost at least 20 pounds and the sweatpants hung very looselyon his waist.

"We'll really need to get you some proper clothes."Rick looked him over critically. Daryl just waved him away.

"Don't spend more money on me, man."

Rick squeezed his good shoulder. "We'll see. Ready?"

Daryl nodded, though his nerves were definitely playing up. He got off the bed and sat down in the wheelchair that Dr. Edwards had brought. The doctor had insisted that he'd see them off.

Dr. Edwards wheeled him to the elevator, out again and into the car park. He stopped by Rick's car and straightened up.

"You both have my number,"he said as Rick opened the passenger door. "Call me if you need anything."

He helped Daryl out of the wheelchair and into the car. Once settled Daryl stretched out his hand.

"Thank you, doctor. For everything."

Dr. Edwards shook the offered hand and grinned. "I guess I just have to give up hope now that either of you will call me Steven..."

Rick shook the doctor's hand next. "I am truly grateful, too. Steven," he added with a smile.

Daryl could see the doctor waving in the side mirror as they pulled out of the hospital car park.


	12. Chapter 12

Rick hadn't expected it to be easy, bringing a convalescent after major surgery home with him, but he was still surprised how quickly it turned bad. But Daryl had been improving steadily while in hospital and had managed fairly well in the last few days, so Rick was not prepared.

Daryl was quiet on the drive, but he often was so Rick didn't pay much attention at first. When they had about another 20 miles to go, however, he noticed Daryl's hand wandering onto his abdomen on top of the incision scar.

"Are you all right?" Rick didn't much like fussing but he couldn't help being concerned.

"Jus' feelin' a bit rough."

Rick knew this tone of voice well enough. Daryl was fighting the nausea they'd thought he'd left behind.

"Do I need to pull over?"

Daryl shook his head. "Jus' get there quick."

It wasn't quite quick enough. When Rick had parked on the curb in front of his building Daryl had unbuckled his seatbelt and was out of the car before Rick could offer any help. He was doubled over, retching into the gutter behind the car by the time Rick got out. Rick had had his own experiences with puking into gutters, but his had usually involved a pleasant evening first. He felt desperately sorry for Daryl now, and just wanted to get him inside, cleaned up and to bed.

Daryl finally straightened up, steadying himself on the trunk of the car and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sorry."

"What for? None of this is your fault." Rick thought to himself that if anything this was his fault alone, making Daryl unwell yet again. He'd pushed for him to be released as quickly as possible, and it looked like it had been too soon. He briefly considered to just take him straight back to Atlanta, but dismissed the idea almost straight away. Putting Daryl through another car journey was surely a terrible idea.

It took them a long time to get up to Rick's apartment. Rick supported Daryl with an arm around his middle, but he didn't want to exert too much pressure in case he hurt him more. Getting up the stairs felt like it took forever. Even though it was only one flight of stairs they had to stop several times so Daryl could get his breath back. He was leaning on Rick more and more heavily, all strength he'd built back up seeming to drain away.

When they got in the door Rick said a silent prayer.

"Bed, or sofa?" He asked, breathing heavily himself now.

"Closest," was all Daryl managed, and Rick steered them toward the sofa. He lowered Daryl as carefully as he could but saw his face contort with discomfort all the same.

"Want to lie down?"

Daryl shook his head, exhaled slowly and leaned back into the cushions, letting go of some of the tension. He closed his eyes, and Rick sat down next to him. He was in need of a rest, too. He looked at Daryl with concern. His face was very pale, there was perspiration on his forehead and his breathing sounded forced. Rick felt a new stab of guilt for hurting Daryl again. He got up, got a wet cloth from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Drink some of this. Do you want something for the pain, or some Tigan?"

Daryl shook his head but took the glass and drank some water. Rick sat down again and put the glass on the coffee table when Daryl handed it to him and leaned back again. Then Rick placed the cloth on the other's forehead.

Rick leaned into Daryl, trying to transfer some strength through physical contact. Daryl responded by leaning close as well with a sigh. Rick put his arm around him and held him in a gentle embrace. Daryl's head came to rest on Rick's shoulder. They stayed like this for a good while.

The day wasn't great after that. Rick had gotten Daryl into bed and dosed up on meds because he could tell he was still in pain and struggling not to be sick again. Daryl had slept the afternoon away peacefully enough, but Rick had no success in convincing him to eat dinner when he finally woke up. He just wanted to go back to sleep. Daryl had a bit of a temperature again, nothing like as bad as during the kidney infection, but Rick decided to call Dr. Edwards anyway.

The doctor asked Rick to look at Daryl's abdomen, so Rick woke him up reluctantly. Dr. Edwards instructed Rick how to check for any tenderness around the incision and asked Daryl a couple of questions about the pain. When Daryl handed the phone back the doctor didn't sound too concerned.

"I think he just needs rest. Give him plenty of water, even if he doesn't want to eat anything, and stick to the prescribed amount of painkillers. No more, but also no less, so that his body is relaxed enough to continue healing."

Rick left Daryl to sleep in his bed on his own and camped out on the sofa, to give the other man as uninterrupted a night as possible.

Rick was woken by a dull thud in the middle of the night. It took him a second to remember why he was on the sofa with a crick in his neck, and another to work out what the sound meant. Then he was up and through the hall to the bedroom in a heartbeat.

Daryl was crumpled on the floor, struggling to pick himself up. Rick stepped over quickly and crouched down. He pulled Daryl up as carefully as possible and sat him down on the side of the bed. Then he switched on the ceiling light.

"Are you all right?" Rick looked Daryl over but couldn't see any injuries, or even too much indication of pain on his face.

"I think so. Stupid, useless..." Daryl's hands balled into fists and he dropped his head.

"Hey." Rick crouched low, like he did when he tried to get Carl's attention. "You're all right. I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself. It'll just take time. We need to be patient."

Reluctantly Daryl nodded.

"Now, where were you trying to go? Bathroom?"

Daryl nodded. Rick helped him there, waited out in the hall and the helped him back to bed.

"Just call me next time, ok? The door is open, I'll hear you."

He turned to go, but Daryl took his hand.

"Stay here? The sofa must be several feet too short, and if you're here you'll know if I'm about to do something stupid. You won't keep me awake," he added, interpreting Rick's expression correctly.

So Rick retrieved his pillow from the living room and settled down next to Daryl. He had to admit that this was many degrees more comfortable than the sofa. And Daryl was right, he wasn't kept awake by Rick. He'd actually dropped back off before Rick was lying down properly. Rick watched him sleep in the gloomy light from a street lamp. Finally, Daryl was looking peaceful and free of pain, and Rick felt a great tenderness welling up. He was determined to make this work, and having Daryl here made him feel like they could finally move on to the next step.

Rick had taken half of Thursday off, but considering Daryl's condition he woke up with the decision to make it the full day. He was still agonizing over it mid-morning when his cell rang.

"Hey, Carol. Everything ok?" Rick had never made this the first question in any conversation as much as recently.

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you two?"

Rick rubbed his eyes, then looked over at Daryl who was dozing on the sofa.

"To be honest, it could be better."

Rick moved into the bedroom, half to prevent Daryl waking up, half because he felt guilty for complaining.

"He's still a lot weaker than I realized. And I can't take much more leave before they start asking questions."

"I can stay with him whenever you need me to. Sophia is at school until late most nights. I arranged that ages ago so she'd be home as little as possible, what with Ed... Anyway, just say the word. In fact, I can come now, if you want."

"Are you serious? I was going to call work to let them know I wasn't coming..."

"Course I'm serious. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. I owe Daryl, and you. Just give me your address and I'll be there."

Carol had been true to her word. She'd arrived within the hour, and she'd brought food.

"If you get him to eat anything, then you are my hero," Rick said, indicating the dish.

"I've also got some cookies in my bag, he won't be able to resist those." Carol's eyes twinkled when she smiled.

Daryl had been delighted when Rick had told him that Carol was coming. After a reasonable night's sleep he was looking much better. Rick showed Carol in, pointed out where everything was, and Carol busied herself with the kettle right away.

"I must dash," he told her. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to have you here." He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Carol looked surprised but pleased.

"Not a bother at all. I'll stay until 5.30, is that late enough?"

"Definitely."

Rick went over to the sofa and bent down to kiss Daryl. It was starting to feel more normal.

"See you later."

Rick was back at quarter past five and found Daryl much improved. Carol had indeed managed to get him to eat lunch, and had made them a casserole for dinner. She left them to go and pick up Sophia.

Daryl was in a better mood than Rick had seen him since the accident, and he was nothing short of relieved when Daryl showed some real enthusiasm about dinner. It was delicious, and certainly an improvement over hospital food.

They watched some TV afterwards, and Rick delighted at the normalcy of it all. When Daryl, who was lying outstretched on the sofa with his head in Rick's lap, started to nod off Rick decided it was time for bed. It was only half past nine, but he wasn't sorry to have an excuse for an early night himself.

When they had brushed their teeth and slipped under the covers Daryl nuzzled close to Rick again. Rick could feel him shifting for a moment then, unexpectedly, felt Daryl's hand on the waistband of his boxers.

He couldn't help his body responding immediately to the touch. His own hand slipping under the covers he explored the body next to his, but before he could reciprocate by pushing past Daryl's waistband Daryl pulled away a little.

"No," he said. "Just you. I can't climb all over you yet, but I can do this." His hand closed around Rick's shaft, his voice was a mere whisper. "Let me do something for you, for a change."

Rick obliged, and leaned back. It was a gentle sensation and since Daryl's left hand was still in a splint and he could only use his right it was slow and deliberate. But after weeks of tension and no relief this was the best gift Rick could imagine.

Daryl was very good at this. Rick gave himself over to the sensation and his thoughts were more unburdened than they had been in weeks. He could feel Daryl's warm breath on his neck and savored the sensation of the body pressing against him. He could feel Daryl's erection against his thigh and was almost tempted to reach for him again. But he remembered what had happened the last time he'd tried to do something to Daryl when he'd said not to, and desisted.

Instead he just savored every bit of the feelings the deliciously slow strokes on his cock elicited, feeling Daryl's heartbeat against his side and the other's arousal. It did not take long for Rick to climax, and it was one of the best orgasms he could remember.

The next day passed in a similar vein. Carol stayed with Daryl most of the day, and when Rick came home he found them laughing in the kitchen.

"We made dinner," Daryl announced, about as proud as Carl when he'd gotten an A on a piece of homework. The thought of Carl gave Rick a stab to the heart. He had spent another frustrating lunch hour on the phone with various lawyers, court officials and even the secretary of one of the judges at the county's court house, to no avail. The date was set, nothing was budging. Still almost three weeks before he would be able to fight for his son.

He pushed the thought away, since brooding would only make him take out his frustration on others, and he certainly didn't want to put a damper on Daryl's evident recovery.

"Any chance you can stay with us for dinner?" he asked Carol, but she shook her head.

"Sophia will be home in half an hour."

"Why don't you and Sophia come over for lunch on Sunday? I am sure Daryl and I'll be able to manage mac and cheese, or something equally unhealthy."

"That's be great, thank you!" Carol smiled while pulling on her jacket. "See you then."

They had the excellent stew Carol and Daryl had made and then retired to the sofa again. Rick could see the tiredness that had started to creep into Daryl's eyes during dinner and he pulled him in to lie on his lap again. Daryl curled up with a content sigh. But after a moment he looked up.

"Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

Rick was slightly startled but turned the TV to mute. "What do you mean?"

"You've been about a million miles away since you came back."

Apparently Rick wasn't the only one who'd become good at reading a man's innermost thoughts. Or maybe he was just really bad at hiding his frustration. Rick steeled himself, and nodded.

"If you want, here goes... The night I first met you, I had just that day moved in here. My wife and I had split up. She told me over the phone that she wouldn't let me see my son unless a judge compelled her to.

"And the Saturday after that, when… you know…" Rick lost his train of thought and just stared at the TV, unseeing. Daryl's hand came up and gently alighted on his cheek. Rick looked down. Daryl's eyes were sleepy again, but he held Rick's gaze firmly. Rick couldn't look away, he seemed to lose some of his worries in the clear, brilliant blue.

"You don't have to, you know? If you're not ready…"

But Rick shook his head. "No, I am ready. And you deserve to know what set me off that night. On the morning of that day I called Lori again. My ex," he added for clarification. "And she told me that… that she and my best friend, and partner in the force, had been sleeping together for two years…"

He couldn't go on. The memory came crashing down like a wall, of that moment on the phone when he'd been consumed with rage, when all he'd believed to be true and right in his life had been uncovered as a lie.

Daryl sat up, then, without Rick really being aware. He faced Rick and pulled him close, and suddenly Rick found himself crying against the other man's shoulder, great sobs shaking him together with his rage. He hadn't even known that this had been brewing under the surface.

They stayed on the sofa curled into each other for a long time. Finally Rick pulled away and they went to bed without so much as exchanging a word. That night, Daryl was the one who held Rick.


	13. Chapter 13

That night changed things between them. Rick was more open with Daryl about his frustrations, and shared his disappointments and his anger more frequently. It helped them become closer, but it also highlighted for Daryl how little he himself still shared with Rick.

He still hadn't talked to Rick about Merle, half hoping, with every day that went by without hearing from his brother, that maybe he'd just lost interest in haunting Daryl. He never quite believed it, but tried to think about it as little as possible.

He had also not talked about his scars, and had avoided being completely naked around Rick. Their focus had been on the big incision on his abdomen, and the pain that had created, and it hadn't come up again.

And anyway, Daryl had too much experience in hiding his back, he didn't even find it challenging under these circumstances. Rick respected Daryl's wish to be alone when he showered, as long as Daryl left the door open a crack, just in case. Daryl hadn't even attempted a shower until he was positive that he could manage it without help, for precisely this reason. But Daryl knew that Rick wouldn't forget.

Carol still came over sometimes, but now it was mostly to teach Daryl how to cook. A week after arriving at Rick's he was strong enough to go out for the first time, and he and Carol went to the supermarket to buy all the ingredients for a veritable feast. Rick had also given Daryl some money to buy new clothes as Rick's didn't fit him very well. Rick had deflected all protests at the expense and just smiled a mysterious smile when Daryl had asked him how he thought this paying for two could work in the long run.

So he and Carol had hit some department stores and got back to the apartment laden down with goods. Daryl felt bad for being unable to help Carol carry in all the shopping, but, as several times before, this new and unfamiliar exertion had taken its toll and he could hardly stand up with exhaustion. Luckily he recovered more quickly now and after a couple of hours rest he was able to help Carol in the kitchen.

Rick picked up Sophia on his way home and brought her along so they could all enjoy dinner together. Both Rick and Daryl had taken a shine to the girl immediately when she'd come for lunch with her mum on that previous Sunday. She was quiet and well-mannered but had an exceptionally quick mind, and Daryl in particular loved talking to her. They had started making up stories together, which apparently was Sophia's favorite hobby. She told them proudly that she wanted to be a writer when she grew up.

Being with Sophia had an unpleasant side effect on Rick, however. As much as he laughed with her and obviously adored her he became almost depressed when she and Carol left. He'd talked to Daryl about it that first Sunday.

"When she left I remembered just how much I miss Carl."

There was little comfort Daryl could give, other than repeating what Rick knew already. The judge would be unlikely to award Lori sole custody, not with Rick's job and standing in the community. Daryl suspected, even though Rick never said it directly, that Rick worried about what their relationship would mean for the judge's opinion. It made Daryl feel hurt, even though he completely understood the Rick's thinking. He just wished people weren't so narrow-minded. But as he'd heard someone say once, fear shrinks the brain, and the more afraid people are the more stupid they get.

Rick had gone back on patrol duty once he was sure that Daryl was managing well with Carol's help. The only person to pair him up with had been that idiot Leon Basset, but Rick didn't mind much. Anything was better than paperwork. And anyway, if his still secret plan came to fruition none of this would matter.

It had been ten days since Daryl had been released from hospital. He was getting better steadily, and Rick felt relieved that they could concentrate on returning to some semblance of a normal life.

Daryl still slept a lot and was still exhausted at the end of each day, but Rick could live with that. It made for peaceful evenings, and he'd been in dire need of some of those. At night Daryl had given Rick a hand job occasionally since that first time, and Rick enjoyed it very much. He just wished he could reciprocate, but Daryl always stopped his hand.

"I'm frightened it'll hurt too much to come. Let's wait a bit longer." Rick had not pressured him.

On this morning, after Rick had put on his uniform in the police station changing room and had just picked up his weapon from the gun locker, his phone rang. It was an Atlanta number he didn't recognize.

"Officer Grimes speaking." He had an inkling what the call could mean. He motioned to Leon who was waiting for him by the door and mouthed _Wait by the car_. If this was the call he had been waiting for he wanted some privacy.

Ten minutes later he joined Leon outside, not entirely able to hide a grin. Rick threw Leon the keys.

"You drive for a change."

Leon didn't say anything but kept looking at Rick curiously, clearly on the verge of asking why Rick was grinning. Rick ignored him. Nothing could upset him today.

After responding to two unexciting calls – a man trapped in his vehicle by accident and an old woman looking for her cat ("Remind me again how this is police work," Len complained, but still Rick ignored him) Rick suggested that they take a break.

"I need to go home to sort out something quickly. Why don't you drop me off at my place and then get yourself a coffee?"

Leon had that curious look on his face again, but Rick only said, "Eyes on the road while driving."

Rick had decided, on the spur of the moment, that his good news could not wait until the evening. He had to tell Daryl as soon as possible.

When they approached his condo, however, all thought of good news fled his brain. An unfamiliar car was parked half on the curb. Rick recognized it as an old Mercury Marquis. It was a monster of a car, old and battered but at one point had been clearly expensive.

Rick's gut feeling for danger had been honed by years of being a cop. There was something going on here, he was certain the moment he saw the car. This kind of car was not something you saw in his street, or even in this town.

"Stop the car." Rick's voice was low, but Leon obeyed at once. They were about fifty yards from the condo. With the hand already on the latch Rick said, "When I've gone, back up and get out of sight. Call for back-up, two cars at least. Call an ambulance, too."

"Rick, what…"

"Just do as I say. This is serious." He looked at Leon. "You know these cop shows you like? You will be a hero just like these guys after tonight."

Rick didn't even wait to see Leon's reaction to this. His mind was focused on getting to Daryl.

Rick's feet made no sound on the stairs. He went carefully across the landing to his door, almost holding his breath when he put his ear close to it. He immediately could hear a voice. Whoever it was didn't bother to keep quiet. Rick mentally corrected himself. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to. Then he heard a second one, this one unfamiliar. He could not make out any words.

There was only one thing he could do. Daryl was in there, and if Rick was right, Merle was, too. He had to go in now and end whatever was going on. Rick pulled his gun from his belt and released the safety. He stepped back a few paces, grounding his centre of gravity. Then he kicked in the door.

The three men in the room froze. Rick was in the doorway, using the surprise effect to take in the situation in a glance. Daryl was kneeling on the floor. There was blood on his face from what looked like a split lip, and Rick was dismayed to see him clutch his side again.

But the heart stopping realization was the knife against his throat. Merle was towering over Daryl, holding the blade pressed against his windpipe. There was already blood beading around the blade. Rick knew that one mistake now could have deadly consequences.

Rick hardly noticed the third man at first. Only when he wheeled around at the sound of the splintering door did Rick zero in. He was in his mid-forties, tall and handsome, but what struck Rick most were his eyes. Even across the room he could see that they were cold as ice.

Merle recovered surprisingly quickly. "Well, if that isn't Officer Friendly. Philip, this is Rick Grimes, my little brother's _boyfriend_."

Rick focused his attention back on Merle. "Let him go right now, and nobody gets hurt."

Merle snorted. "How fuckin' likely do you think that is?" He pulled Daryl back roughly by the hair, pressing the blade in harder and Rick could hear a whimper escaping from Daryl's throat.

"Shut up, you pussy! Rick, this little shit here owes me a lot of money, and since he's useless at everything but putting out I've decided he can pay off his debt by servicing my clients and business associates. That's what he wanted to be, wasn't it? A little whore."

Rick couldn't look away from Daryl's eyes, which were now brimming with tears. It was astonishing to see what effect his brother's devastating judgement could have on him, even in this situation.

"Merle, this is my last warning. I am not a patient man, and you are threatening the man who is more important to me than my own life. I have a gun. This is not a good combination, and your chances of getting out of this alive are wearing thinner every second." Rick's voice was low, but everyone in the room knew that he was deadly serious.

He thought he could see a flicker of fear in Merle's face. Good. Rick estimated that he could talk them all out of this in the next five minutes.

Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The man Merle had called Philip was reaching behind himself and was just pulling a gun out of his waistband. He had it half raised by the time Rick pointed his own revolver at him. Rick didn't hesitate, he aimed, and fired.

The man gave a howl as blood spurted from what remained of his hand. The gun clattered to the floor, and the man clutched his hand against his body, collapsing.

Rick faced Merle again. "Last warning."

For a moment Rick didn't know what direction it was going to go. He kept his weapon trained on Merle's head, to be ready to shoot him before he managed to hurt Daryl properly should he decide on that course of action.

But then Merle let the knife drop, let go of Daryl's hair and stepped away. Daryl crumpled to the floor.

Rick looked around. He hadn't even noticed his colleagues coming through the door. There were two men with guns drawn and pointed at Merle either side of him, and one more crouched over the man lying on the floor bleeding. Rick only vaguely realized that that was Shane.

He had no eyes for anything now but Daryl. He was at his side in under three seconds, but it felt to Rick like the longest walk of his life. He crouched down and gently touched the other's shoulder. Daryl was lying almost prone, only supporting himself on one elbow. His right hand was still clutching his side and belly.

"Talk to me, man. Where are you hurt?"

Slowly Daryl looked up, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Rick helped him until he was more or less upright. The look in his eyes was nothing Rick had ever seen in a human. He looked like a wild animal, cornered and injured, desperately trying to get away.

Rick dropped to his knees. He took Daryl's face in both hands, cupping his chin with the left and tracing circles on the sensitive skin of his throat with his thumb.

"It's over, Daryl. He can't hurt you now. He'll never hurt you again, I will make sure of that. You have my word." Slowly Daryl's eyes came back from that wild place and focused on Rick's. He took a deep, shaking breath and then released it with a sob.

"Rick…"

There was no more strength in that voice now than on the day Daryl had come out of the coma in the hospital. He slumped, letting himself fall against Rick's chest and Rick caught him and held him fast.

Close by Rick could now see Lam Kendal putting handcuffs on Merle. He was reading Merle his rights but was looking at Rick sideways the entire time. The look on his face was strange. Rick looked around. Shane, his hands bloody from being busy with the injured Philip, was also looking at him oddly.

Rick couldn't have cared less. He let his colleagues deal with the fallout of this fucked-up situation and remained on the floor, holding the most precious thing in his life close, listening to Daryl's breathing and heartbeat returning to normal, and focusing on nothing but their own survival.

The EMTs had loaded the man Rick had shot into the ambulance, but Rick had insisted that one of them remain behind and check Daryl over. He'd managed to get Daryl off the floor and had brushed away Leon when he'd tried to prevent Rick from taking Daryl into their bedroom.

"He needs to lie down, he's still recovering from surgery, and I want him checked over in peace. You do what you have to do out here, but let me go."

Daryl had hidden his face against Rick's chest when he'd noticed the stares of the other officers. He was shaking against Rick now, and Rick just wanted to have done with this so Daryl could get over the shock of it all. Rick caught Shane staring again, but when he returned the man's gaze, almost willing him to say something, Shane had looked away. Rick's focus returned to getting Daryl into the bedroom.

The EMT was a friendly young woman, who was the only one not looking at them with a mix of disgust and fascination. She smiled at Rick and then focused on Daryl, who was sitting on the end of the bed now.

After examining and cleaning up the cut on Daryl's lip and the nick on his neck she straightened up.

"This is nothing serious, it should heal without problem. Daryl, I need you to take your shirt off now, so I can look at your side."

Rick, who had hung back, stepped forward now. He could already see the automatic response forming on Daryl's lips, but he interrupted. He crouched down, like he'd done once before at the hospital, and said quietly. "Whatever you are hiding, I don't care what it is, or what happened. You are not to blame for whatever it was. I just want to be sure you're ok."

The fight, such as remained, went out of Daryl and he nodded. He let Rick help him slip the T-Shirt over his head, winching when it brushed his left side.

As he stepped back, holding the shirt Rick couldn't help but glance at Daryl's back. It was pretty much what he'd expected. A warren of old, twisted scars covered much of the skin, all the way from the shoulders to his waistband. A familiar surge of hatred coursed through Rick. Here was another Ed, another Merle, who had terrorized his man. This was the accumulation of years of abuse, and Rick hoped fervently that Dixon sr. was long dead and gone. Rick would not be held responsible for what he did if the man was still alive.

He was brought back to the moment by the EMT. "How many weeks post op is this?" She was pointing at the incision.

"About five weeks."

She nodded. "Can you lie down, Daryl, so I can check you over?"

Rick dropped the shirt onto a chair and helped Daryl to his feet. As he walked him around to the side of the bed and helped him stretch out he caught the woman looking at Daryl's back. Her expression was one of such sorrow Rick's heart went out to her. She caught his gaze and gave him a sad little smile, but her voice did not betray her. "Good. Let's do this quickly so you can get some rest, both of you."

She sat down next to Daryl and carefully checked his abdomen, and then his side. When she put a hand on top of the fresh bruise on his lower ribs Daryl flinched away. The EMT nodded, and pulled off her gloves.

"At least one, maybe two ribs are cracked. What happened?"

"He kicked me. Merle, my brother." Daryl spat out the last word like it was an insult.

The woman's voice remained impassive. "This will hurt quite a bit for a week or so. Are you still good for pain meds?" The last was addressed to Rick, who nodded. "I can always get a new prescription from the doc who operated on him."

"Good. Luckily everything else seems to be ok. He could have done much worse damage." She rummaged in her kit by her feet. "One more thing. I'll give you a light sedative now, Daryl. You are in shock, and in your condition that is nothing to be cavalier about. You need to rest."

Daryl nodded, looking defeated. He let her inject him into the vein on his arm, then curled up on his right. Rick stepped over as the EMT got up from the bed and pulled the covers over Daryl. He leaned down and pushed some strands of hair from his forehead, before bringing their heads together very close.

"Sleep now. I'll go and deal with the mess."

"Mhm…" Daryl was already almost out. Rick breathed a small kiss on his forehead and let himself and the EMT out of the bedroom.

The activity in his apartment never seemed to let up throughout the day. Forensics came and went, retrieved the shell casing from the bullet he'd fired at that man Philip, and the bullet from the wall. They also took Rick's weapon and swabbed his hands for powder residue. Rick had never known how tedious this sort of thing could be. He'd fired the gun, there were enough witnesses for that. What did they need the swabs for? But he let them do whatever they wanted. At least forensics also cleaned the blood off his floor.

Rick gave a statement to an officer he didn't know. Leon, who'd stayed behind, told him that the officer had been brought in to prevent any conflict of interest, and Rick could see the point. Had they decided to let Shane, who was the most senior sheriff's deputy after Rick, take his statement Rick was certain that someone would have come away from it with a cracked skull.

Shane had been gone by the time Rick had come out of the bedroom with the EMT, and Rick wasn't sorry for that. He was sure that Shane would write up his own report with every little detail he had witnessed between Rick and Daryl that day, and Rick was sure that this statement would feature heavily in the upcoming custody battle. He couldn't lie to himself, it bothered him a lot.

Rick put his foot down when the officer who had taken his statement demanded to talk to Daryl. "He is heavily drugged, and asleep. You can come back tomorrow."

Luckily, one look at Rick's face convinced the man that he wouldn't budge, and dropped it.

Finally, the light already waning outside, the last of them left.

Rick closed the door, which had been provisionally repaired, behind them and put the chain on to make sure it stayed shut.

He went over to the sofa and sat down. For a moment he stayed immobile, then he dropped his head into his hands with a deep sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. He remained like this for a long time, and when he looked up night had fallen properly. He knew he should eat something, he hadn't had anything since breakfast but he had no appetite.

Instead he got up and walked through to the bedroom. Opening the door quietly he slipped inside and toed off his shoes. He took off his gun belt, unbuttoned his shirt and pants and stripped to T-Shirt and boxer shorts. He stepped around the bed to the far side and slipped under the covers next to Daryl, who shifted around slightly but then lay still again.

Rick didn't think he'd be able to sleep, but he hardly finished that thought when exhaustion took its toll and he dropped off into a deep and dreamless state.


	14. Chapter 14

Next morning they took a long time getting ready to face the day. Daryl was quiet and would hardly meet Rick's eyes. Rick didn't want to add to Daryl's feeling of misery so he left him alone for the moment. He'd told him that the detective would be back to take his statement soon, and that seemed to weigh heavily on Daryl's mind.

Rick showered and put on fresh clothes. He got a shirt on Daryl and made him comfortable on the sofa. Then he made them both breakfast, and badgered Daryl until he'd at least eaten some toast.

The detective came shortly after eleven. He was more gentle with Daryl than Rick had feared and showed no animosity or disapproval at Daryl's answers. The hardest thing for Rick to hear was Daryl's reply when asked what exactly Merle had wanted from him.

"He'd somehow found out that, for a while, I'd gone with men for money. It seemed an easy way to make some cash quickly at the time, and it worked out all right for a bit. But it got too scary and I stopped.

"When Merle barged in here with that other man I told them I might consider doing it again, and that I'd pay Merle back for the bike, but that I wasn't ready yet, and that I'd pick my own clients. Merle wouldn't listen and got angry real quick."

Daryl's voice had been almost emotionless throughout. He now looked up, meeting Rick's eyes briefly before focusing on the detective. "I won't lie. I am scared to get into trouble, but if it means that Merle and that other guy go to prison I don't care about what happens to me."

The detective held his gaze. To Rick, he looked sympathetic. "You won't get into trouble. Your brother is under investigation here, not you, and whatever you did or didn't do before last night, it won't have consequences."

The interview ended shortly after that. Rick saw the detective out and then came to sit next to Daryl, who'd been sitting up during the interview. He looped his arm around Daryl's shoulders and the other man leaned into him with a sigh. Rick didn't think there was much to be gained from rehashing the previous day just then, but he had something else to say now that might distract them both from the current state of affairs.

"Do you know why I came back so early yesterday?" Rick could feel Daryl shake his head against his shoulder.

"I came back to tell you some good news. While you were at Grady Memorial I arranged a meeting with the Chief of Police at Atlanta Police Department. I've known him for a long time, and a few years back he offered me a job, if I ever wanted one.

"After things started getting so difficult here, I decided to see if they had any openings. It so happens that they'd just had a senior officer retiring, and I got a call yesterday from the Chief himself, asking me if I would accept the rank of Captain, to head up the Downtown Atlanta precinct. I said I would."

Daryl pulled away and sat up. Rick was pleased to see the look of genuine delight on Daryl's face. Giving his man something to smile about now was even better that this career opportunity in itself.

"This is fantastic news, Rick! But it means that you'll move away…"

Before Daryl had even time to formulate any mistaken consequences of that thought Rick interrupted him. "No, it means we'll be moving."

From the look on Daryl's face Rick knew that he was struggling with a whole array of emotions. He pulled Daryl close again. He snuggled back in willingly, holding on to Rick.

"But what am I supposed to do while you go off to be the new sheriff in town?"

Rick had thought about that, too. "When we went to that gallery you told me you wanted to be an artist. If you want to explore that further, now is your opportunity. We can finally go back to Merle's, and get all your things, and you can show me your work. Or you could go to college, like Carol. Or anything else you like, really.

"The rank of Captain won't make me stinking rich over night, but even with alimony to Lori I'll be better off than I've ever dreamt I'd be. Whatever you want to do, Daryl, I'll make sure you get to do it."

There was no answer, but Rick could feel Daryl's grip tighten. Rick didn't need to hear Daryl say out loud that he was in on Rick's plans. His heart beating against Rick's chest and his hands gripping him hard was all the answer he needed.

Suddenly Rick knew that their future had never looked brighter.


End file.
